The Iron-Maiden and the Lie-Smith
by PrincessTverski
Summary: When the Frost Giants of Jotunheim threaten Asgard with war, Odin sends his sons to the Light Elves to make an alliance. But What happens with the God of Mischief and Lies meets his match in a fiery warrior-princess with a panache for slicing off heads? Set before the movies. Rated M for violence, some swearing, and adult themes. LokiXOC. AU-ish.
1. Chapter 1: If One Isnt, the Other is

**Okay, so I've lately become quite enamored with Loki from Thor/The Avengers and this story has been kicking around in my head for a few days. I kind of wanted to a different sort of thing with him that what I've been seeing online; I think he deserves a girl that's his equal and isn't afraid to make him realize when he's being ridiculous. Anyway, that's the plan. This story is half based on the Thor/Avengers movieverse, and the mythology...and I guess half on my own imagination... so that's 3 halves, right? This first chapter might be a bit confusing, but it should sort itself out. This takes place before the Thor/Avengers movies, but the plots might twist ;) Please let me know what you think! **

* * *

Chapter One: If One Isn't Causing Trouble on Accident, the Other Is on Purpose

The Allfather sighed as he stared into the void beyond the BiFrost, a troubled look etched on his ancient face. His agents and spies in the realms whispered that the Frost Giants of Jotunheim were mustering for war again and he knew in his wisdom that this war would not be one Asgard could fight alone. He had been sleeping next to the beautiful Frigga when the visions had come upon him: death, and blood, the world tree lying in ruins. No, Asgard could not fight this on their own, because the Frost Giants would not be on their own.

The real question was who to turn to?

He wearily trudged back to his Great Hall; he could feel the Odinsleep would soon be upon him, but perhaps he could put it off until the end of this crisis. Approaching the doors, he motioned for guard to come forward.

"Send for my sons, I have much to discuss with both of them."

* * *

King Theoderic of the Western Woods was the only elven ruler still living who remember what it had been like when there was just one great elven kingdom that covered all of Alfheimr. The glory of his people, their beauty and power was second only to the æsir of Asgard. But that alliance had been broken millennium ago by force too dark to think on. Instead, he now ruled but a fourth of the world, confined to the trees of the Great Forest.

He was burdened with grief; it showed as the weariness in his sapphire eyes and in the threads of silver running through is golden hair. He had lived too long, and confronted too much death; his father, elder brothers, his wife, his sons, all he had left was his daughter, Yevanna, the Iron-Maiden, who refused to take a husband.

But that was enough musing on the dreary for the day; he turned his attention back to the missive that he received earlier that week. It was sent by King Fulk of the Central Plains, a younger cousin of his whom he much respected. The letter was in regards to a message sent from Asgard, though what the Asgardians would want with elvenkind was beyond him. The Gods had turned their back on Alfheimr when they let evil spread strife and death throughout the land.

_King Fulk of the Central Plains, Son of Aitus, Son of Fingole, to King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi, _

_My Dear Cousin and Friend, _

_We have received message via the BiFrost that the Allfather will be sending two messengers in regards to an urgent matter. He invites all the Elvenkings to send their representatives or come in person. We do not know what this is in regards to, but we imagine that it is fairly serious. We hope to hear from our dear friend and cousin. _

Theoderic had no intention of leave his kingdom at the beck and call of the Allfather, but he would send his own representatives. He looked up just as the large oak doors in the Hall of Trees burst open and Princess Yevanna strode in. She was clad in a long, blue and silver tunic that reached mid-thigh in the front and knee length in the back, under which she wore plain gray trousers tucked into black boots. At her hip was her sword Eld. Her red-gold hair was bound back in a braid, and her sharp features were animated with excitement.

"Father! I bring you the head of Urgrum, King of the Trolls, scourge of our southern border." She snapped her finger and two squires walked in, carrying a large silver plate with a grotesque severed head on it. The green diffused light from the tree ceiling made the skin a ghastly grey-green color. Yevanna beamed with pride.

"I cleaved his head from the body myself."

That made him smile; she was distinctly aware that she was his only heir, and as such, tried to make up for her gender by being fierce in battle and wise in council. He cast his eyes over the rest of her host; here in the shadows was his nephew, Beowulf, whom he knew some wanted him to choose as heir. The boy was reasonably able in combat, but he was deplorable when it came to cool-headed judgments.

"I am very proud of you, my daughter. We shall have a feast in your honor tonight. But now, I must discuss with you some urgent news." He waived all the attendants and soldiers away and motioned for her to seat herself in the smaller of the two thrones on the dais. Technically it was reserved for his queen, but she had died many ages ago and it was Yevanna's throne as heir now. She sat gracefully and rested her chin on a gauntleted hand.

"What can I do as service, Father?"

"Yevanna, I need you to travel to the great City on the Plains. King Fulk is hosting a council. There will be delegates from Asgard; you are the only one I can trust to exhibit fair judgment and represent our people gracefully."

* * *

Yevanna smoothed her hair back into a braid and fastened her cloak before heading to the stables. Her booted footsteps made no sound on the soft turf of castle floor and the gray light of dawn made the wooded tunnels almost gloomy, though truthfully, Yevanna could never think of her home as anything but beautiful. The palace complex of the Kingdom of the Western Woods was a living organism, sculpted and curved out of the very forest her father ruled. The walls were trees and shrubs, the floor was grass, and the ceiling branches. Best yet, it was impossible to find if you didn't know where to look.

She stepped into the stable yard and breathed in the crisp air. Dawn and dusk, the times between day and night where her favorite, magical in their ambiguity. The yard was busy with activity; servants loading up the horses, soldiers readying their gear. She saw her cousin, Beowulf, brushing down his horse and sighed. She had hoped he wouldn't be accompanying her, but alas, her father had thought it best to placate him and allow him to join the company. She just hope he would stay out of her hair if she needed to negotiate anything. Honestly, he acted as if _he_ were heir to the throne, not her. Also traveling with her was the younger Theoderic, or Theo, her right hand man and captain of the guard. He was named in honor of her father, though they were not related.

"My lady, how fare you this morning?"

She smiled, "I am well, Theo, and yourself?"

"Well, Yeva. I am excited to venture beyond our borders; I have never been outside of the Woods."

She didn't mind his use of her nickname, Yeva, it made her feel as if she had friends when she heard it. Anyway, it was much better than the name Beowulf had given her: Iron-maiden. It was in mockery of her aloof disposition and unwillingness to marry, or rather more specifically, unwillingness to marry him. Beowulf had followed her since they were children, always claiming that one day they would rule the Western Wood together. It certainly grated on her nerves.

Yevanna mounted her horse and gave the order to ride out. It would take them nearly a week to reach the capital of the Central Plains, perhaps longer if they met any obstacles along the way, and she was eager to see which emissaries the Allfather choose to send to Alfheimr. Frowning, she realized that she would have to address them, whoever they were, by their real names. The elves never referred to the gods of Asgard by their given names, it was considered bad luck. Instead they were given titles: Allfather, Queen of Heaven, The Storm, Liesmith, the Warriors Three, and so on and so forth. She wondered what could be so terribly wrong that the gods were bothering to come to the elvenworld.

As they rode through the forest, she mused on the relation of the nine realms; according to her father, the Asgardians used to walk freely among all the realms, keeping things peaceful and dispensing justice. But soon the children of the realms started to grow up and demand freedom and to rule their own lands. Slowly the means of travel through the different world began to fall into disuse and many things once deemed important were lost forever. After the gods had left there was a golden age in Alfheimr, where her grandfather ruled over the entire world, but that too ended when Death and Sorrow entered through the void. Her father was still bitter with the Aesir for not aiding the elves during their crisis; perhaps that is why he chose to send her to this meeting. She could not harbor the rage he felt at the destruction of his world, as she had been born after the most of the fighting and carnage had settled. She really didn't have a clear picture of what had happened during that time, those who were still live that remembered didn't speak of it. All Yevanna knew was that it was a lot of death and the kingdom broke into four smaller kingdoms.

* * *

"Cousin, behold the great Citadel of the Central Plains." Beowulf pointed to a huge marble tower that twisted up from a large, sprawling city confined only by marble walls. The Plains elves had no nature to build their kingdom out of, like her father had. Instead, they lived out in the open, on a hill from which one could see miles in any direction. Where the elves of the Western Woods preferred stealth and preemptive attacks, the elves of the Central Plains preferred foresight and defense. The great gates of the city opened before them as the thundered through the city streets; the Citadel was where King Fulk held court and would be waiting for them. Yevanna wondered who else had arrived, though judging by the interested looks she and her men were getting from the general populace, she would wager they were one of the first groups to arrive.

The moment she had dismounted from her horse she had been whisked away by a page to Fulk's private antechamber off of the great hall. She sat quietly in a soft blue chair, waiting for the king to arrive. The doors clicked open and she stood, placing her hand over her heart and inclined her head.  
"My lord, it is an honor to be in your fair city."

King Fulk was tall and stately, with chocolate brown hair and blue eyes. He was in muted earth tones of green and brown, except for the thick silver circlet he wore in his hair. She hadn't seen him in ages, not since she was very small. In truth, he did look older, though still handsome.

"Lady Yevanna, I trust your ride was well?"

"Yes, my lord, we ran into no obstacles, save for a few horses throwing shoes."

He motioned for her to sit as he took his seat opposite her. "Your father told you the details of this meeting, is that correct?"

"Yes sir. He gave me a copy of your letter. Though may I inquire as to which Asgardians the Allfather sent?"

Fulk laughed softly. "Still inquisitive as always, I see. Yes, the princes of Asgard are here: the Storm and the Liesmith."

"Oh! Well that's…interesting." She couldn't hide her surprise; things must be dire indeed for the Allfather to send both sons.

Fulk raised his eyebrow at her remark.

"Well, at least from the stories I've heard, if one isn't causing trouble on accident, the other is on purpose."

"That is a good way to describe them, but I wouldn't let anyone else hear you say that." She frowned, realizing her error in judgment.

"Do not worry; you will meet them at the banquet tonight and I think you'll find them both rather agreeable."

* * *

**Loki (and Thor!) will be in the next one :) **

**Also, as a note about the names: for the titles I picked for the Asgardians, some of them are from mythology (Allfather, Liesmith) and some of them I just made up (Queen of Heaven, the Storm). As for the elf names, I tried to pick Germanic / Anglo-Saxon-y names, but mostly I just went with what I could remember from my early Medieval history class, so there were rulers named Theoderic (the Ostrogoth) and Fulk (of Anjou). Yevanna is a slightly changed version of Tolkien's "Yavanna" from the _Silmarillion, _who is the elf responsible for growing everything in Arda. Beowulf is from, well, _Beowulf_. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think. The next ones should be longer. **


	2. Chapter 2: Remind Me Not to Upset You

**Here is chapter two! I would like to thank Iris Musicia for writing the first review :) and I would also like to thank the readers who favorited / altered this story. Let me know what you think about the interactions with Loki (yes, he shows up in this one :))...I had some trouble working on his reactions, because this is set before the first Thor movie, so he's more sort of mischievous right now than anything. Any feedback would be appreciated. **

* * *

Chapter Two: Well, Remind Me Not to Upset You

Yevanna surveyed herself in the polished silver mirror. She was in her temporary bedroom in the Citadel of King Fulk, and the moon and stars were shining in from the windows on the ceiling. It was kind of Fulk to realized she would wish to sleep under the sky like she did at home. Tonight she and the rest of the elvenkind who came to his call would meet the two princes of Asgard: the Storm and the Liesmith. In truth she wasn't particularly worried or excited about it; they would be on their best behavior, judging by the delicacy of the situation. She was more interested in what they had to say that when they looked like. Which was unlike most of the ladies assembled at court, if servant gossip could be trusted.

She sighed and smoothed down the soft blue material of her gown; it was tight in the bodice and flowed past her waist. Her shoulders were bare and edged with silver lace in a leaf pattern which peaked out from under the outer blue material. Her usually unruly hair was bound back in a low lying bun at the nap of her neck. She knew her father would want her to make the right first impression, but she was hesitant to wear her crown and to be perfectly frank, even wear a gown. It wasn't that she disliked skirts, she was more comfortable in trousers and a tunic. It was more practical.

Her maidservant bustled around in the background, setting out her jewels and other possible accessories. Most of them were inherited from her mother, as Yevanna rarely bothered with anything other than her sword, Eld. Anyway, she had refused to wear slippers, and instead had a comfortable pair of leather boots under the folds of her skirts. No one would notice.

"What jewels would you wear tonight, my Lady?"

"I'll wear the silver and sapphire belt…and my crown." The girl bowed and quickly fastened the silver band around Yevanna's waist, so that it hung on her hips. Her crown was also silver; a thick, twisted band of silver with long, twisted spires jutting upwards with blue and green stones fixed on it. Yevanna had always thought it looked a bit liked a felled tree, branches skyward. It wasn't terribly heavy, but she was happy that there were pins attached so she could fix it to her hair, otherwise she was afraid any sudden movement would send it flying.

A knock sounded on the door. It was probably Beowulf to escort her down the main hall where the feast would be held; she hoped she didn't have to sit next to him all night. Plastering a smile on her face, she stepped out into the corridor.

"Evening, Yevanna. You look ravishing tonight." He held out his arm to her with a cocky grin etched on his face. She nodded in reply and took it. She didn't care if he thought her rude for not speaking.

It was a silent, but mercifully short trip down the central spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed all the dignitaries were gathered outside the dining hall, which was actually a large stone structure added onto the back of the Citadel. There were probably a dozen or so small groups of people milling around and she supposed more already seated in the great hall beyond. She spotted King Fulk near the center of the room, speaking to two men and a woman; she steered herself and Beowulf in their direction. Yevanna dropped her hand from Beowulf's arm as soon as the met the group not wanting to touch him longer than necessary.

Fulk inclined his head to her slightly. "Ah, yes. May I introduce Princess Yevanna of the Western Wood, daughter of King Theoderic. And this is her cousin, Lord Beowulf. Yevanna, you know Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shores? And these two gentlemen are our envoys from Asgard, Prince Thor and Prince Loki."

He was right, she did know the woman in the circle or at least, recognized her; Princess Melisende was the ruler of the Eastern Shores. Tall, willowy with inky black hair and golden skin, she was quite beautiful, and if the rumors were true, left the ruling up to her brother while she spent her time in the sun. Yevanna turned her attention to the Asgardians who both towered over the elves, eager to finally see what all the fuss was about. Prince Thor was a massive, burly man with golden hair and a smile to match. His blue eyes sparkled like the silver and gold tunic he wore. If he was the day then his brother, Prince Loki, was the night. She cast her eyes to the Lie-smith, taking him all in. He was tall and slim, though in a way which suggested a well toned frame. With his handsome angular face and smoothed back black hair, Prince Loki looked much more elf-like than his brother. His glimmering emerald eyes and the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips suggested he certainly lived up to his name as the God of Mischief. He was clad in a simple green tunic edged with gold trim which was woven in a geometric pattern and placed over a plain black silk shirt. Both brothers were looking at her with interest.

Yevanna placed her hand over her heart and bowed her head. "It is an honor to meet you, my Lords of Asgard."

The smile on Prince Thor's face widened. Snatching her hand in his massive ones, he brushed a kiss on the back of her palm. His beard and mustache tickled somewhat; elven men didn't grow beards, so it was a strange sensation for Yevanna. "My lady, my brother and I are well please to make your acquaintance! My dear friend Lady Sif has requested I bring her tidings from you and news of your battle exploits."

His voice was just as boisterous as one would expect. As he spoke Prince Loki brushed a kiss on the back of her hand as well, fixing his eyes on her as he did so. "Yes, likewise."

"I was not aware I had such renown in Asgard."

"Even though the æsir do not walk the realms does not mean we don't watch." Loki's voice was soft and low, hanging in the air like silk.

Yevanna wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, besides feel somewhat unsettled at the thought of being watched through the BiFrost. Luckly Fulk saved her thinking of a quick reply.

"I believe it is time to go into dinner. Prince Thor, if you would be so kind as to escort Princess Melisende; Prince Loki, if you could take Princess Yevanna." He turned and was gone to escort his wife, Queen Sibylla. Beowulf looked disgruntled and Yevanna couldn't help smiling a little at his displeasure; on an even better note, she wouldn't have to sit next to him during dinner, either. She turned to Loki and linked her arm with his, letting her fingers rest on the watery texture of his sleeve. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Your mood seems to have improved since you came into the hall." He murmured as they entered the large marble room, decked with heavy tapestries and silk banners. She could hear people whispering as they past the rows of tables to the high table on the dais; it made her uncomfortable, though she was nearly certain that it was more in response to the man at her side than because of her.

"I am just well please that I do not have to sit next to Lord Beowulf this evening." She wasn't sure what to make of his statement, so she decided being honest was probably her best reply. One thing was for sure, Asgardians were surprisingly forward.

They took their seats and Fulk gave a welcome speech, though in truth Yevanna was more focused on the food sitting in front of them; a full week on the road eating only bread made her ravenous for the real food piled before her. He finished and everyone clapped politely before the heartier sounds of feasting echoed in the hall. The first course was a mixture of cheese, fruits, and bread; she was delighted to see that there was pomegranate seeds drizzled in honey. She took a sip of her blackberry wine.

"Are you and Lord Beowulf betrothed to be wed?" Yevanna coughed on her drink and set the goblet down a little too strongly. She regarded the Lie-smith for a moment, trying to read his face; he seemed perfectly sincere except for the smile in his eyes which belied his mischievous nature.

"Although he seems to think so, I would not wed him to save my soul."

"Is that why you are called the Iron-Maiden?" The question came from the elf on her other side; he had white blond hair and skin, with ruby red eyes. "Allow me to introduce myself; I am Driste, Lord of the Southern Mountains."

She knew who he was, of course. All the elvenkings and their kin knew one another to some extent, but she had never met a mountain elf before.

"Actually Beowulf gave me that name himself. But yes, I suppose it is because I am, ah, unyielding in my refusal of him." She couldn't help roll her eyes at his childishness.

Driste laughed. "I can see why he would be bitter. Rejection is difficult, but harder still from a beautiful woman." Yevanna suppressed a snort; elvish men were quite the flatterers and she had learned long ago to take complements with a grain of salt.

"Are you married, Lord Driste?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"No, life is too short and full of cave trolls to bother with one woman." he winked "And what of you Prince Loki, do you have your own Asgardian goddess back home?"

Loki seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the questions. "It is strange you should ask, but no. However, I would like to hear more about these trolls you speak of. We have nothing of the sort in Asgard."

Of course they wouldn't; Asgard did not suffer the same evil as Alfheimr.

"They are fearsome creatures, bigger than man or elf and thick as a tree. Their blood is black ochre and poisonous. But you should ask the princess here; she just killed their high chief in the Western Woods, is that not so?" His smile widened and she couldn't tell if he was deliberately making fun of her or not. for a moment she almost wished she was sitting next to Beowulf. At least she knew how to read him. Before she could retort Loki spoke.

"You killed a _troll?"_ Yevanna wasn't sure to be insulted by his tone of incredulity or flattered.

"Well, it's not really as exciting as it sounds." She mumbled and poked at her food.

Loki raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Yevanna was not sure how much of this story she wanted well known to everyone; she did not look particularly brave in it. But it seemed as if neither of her table neighbors were going to let it drop, and anyway, perhaps if she told Prince Loki, he could tell Prince Thor in order to fulfill his earlier request.

"My company and I ran into his camp by happenstance and I didn't have enough warriors to face him in direct combat. Not wishing to back away from our possibly only sighting of the trolls, we dispatched a messenger to parlay. King Urgrum of course thought to keep me as a hostage against my father. So I was brought into the camp, my sword was taken, and I was ushered into his private tent were a dinner was waiting. As you know, however, Trolls are quite fond of strong mead; as he drank and drank, he dismissed his staff.

'Lady, you have sworn take neither man nor elf' he said to me 'but you have said nothing of Troll. How would you like a husband of such greatness?'

'Sir,' said I hoping to distract him from any rash course of action, 'perhaps we had better speak of the political situation between our two nations, I doubt we will have a better opportunity than this.'

After continuing our conversation in that vein, he became frustrated and reared up from the table. Disoriented, he stumbled towards me; however, the fates were kind and it was just my luck at that moment that he tripped on the leg of his own dinning table and slumped over in a drunken stupor. K cast my eyes around the tent for something to disable him with and saw Eld, my sword, casually tossed on a side table. He had thought himself safe enough in his own camp not to hide it, I imagine. I retrieved it, and with a swing severed his head from his odious body. At this point his soldiers knew there was a problem, but when they found me covered in their king's black blood they surrendered." She shrugged. "That's the truth of it, though it's not particularly noble."

Yevanna slowly raised her eyes to Loki, who was wearing that unreadable expression again. Luckily, she was distracted from their responses by Fulk. "As we are finishing our meals, I urge all of my dear guests to partake in music, dancing, and general revelry."

He clapped his long, white hands and musicians filed in to the upper gallery; their melodies soon floated down to those seated below. Beowulf materialized before her on the other side of the table.

"Yevanna, I believe this dance belongs to me." She glanced at her tablemates quickly to see if either of them were feeling particularly chivalrous, but it appeared not. She painted a fake smile to her face and stood.

"Please excuse me, Lord Driste, Prince Loki."

* * *

Loki frowned as he surveyed the elves gathered before him. In the din of everything he could hear Thor's booming voice; of course Thor would not fail to make friends. He, on the other hand, was not sure that to think of the elves. They were surprisingly like the aesir with their culture, long lives, and love of revelry, but also very different. He had never met a people so concerned with nature before or ritual. It seemed like everything required a damn speech.

"So what do you think of Alfheimr so far, Prince?" Lord Driste inquired.

Loki did not appreciate the interruption of his thoughts, but he knew he had to be polite. "It is not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

He did not deign to answer; instead Loki swept his emerald eyes across the room before him. About two dozen pairs of dancers circled the floor in an intricate weave and swirl of bodies. Out of the rush of people he could identify Thor with the dark haired woman with whom he had entered the hall. Nearby was Princess Yevanna, her sun-like hair sticking out in a crowd of blond and black; she did not seem too amused by her dance partner. Earlier he had only asked her about Lord Beowulf to see her reaction. Mischief was, after all, his main hobby.

The music ended for a moment and his brother approached with his lady in tow.

"Brother! You must join the revelry."

"I'm perfectly content right here, Thor."

"Nonsense. Princess Melisende will be your partner." The woman smiled at him and Loki had to fight the urge to turn her hair into worms. It irked him to no end how willing most women were to do his brother's bidding, even if Thor had his best interests at heart. Loki did not want to dance, but he knew that Thor would be persistent, so he stood and walked around the table. Glancing at his brother with an unamused look on his face, he took the woman's hand and led her out to the dance floor.

The rhythms of this particular dance weren't difficult to pick up, although he had never learned the steps. He stepped towards and away from his partner, turning in a circle with the other dancers until a sharp drum beat sounded, indicating that they switch partners to person the left of the original. It appeared this was done until one came back to his original partner. Some pairs were making conversation; he didn't see the point as the exchange of dancers was frequent.

Step, step, spin, circle; step, step, spin circle, change partners.

At the drum beat, he found himself clasping Yevanna's hand. He gave her a wry smile.

"We meet again. I trust you are enjoying your time with Lord Beowulf?"

She scowled, which was more facial expression that he'd seen on all the other women in the hall combined. She didn't dignify his prodding with an answer and just as quickly, she spun away. The dance ended and the girl (Melisende?) looked at him expectantly; Loki just turned and headed back to his seat. Hopefully one dance would convince Thor he was having a good time.

"Another dance, Yeva." To his right the blond elf, Beowulf, gripped Princess Yevanna's arm tightly; she looked like she was concentrating hard on something. Before he really knew what he was doing, Loki clapped his hand on Beowulf's shoulder.

"If I am not mistaken, sir, Princess Yevanna promised this dance to me." His voice was low and calming; it was the voice he used when he wanted to make someone do what he wanted. He tightened his grip on the elf's shoulder for good measure. Beowulf's grip slacked and his eyes glazed over; a moment later he was gone.

"I had it sorted." Yevanna murmured.

"I can call him back, if you like." That earned him another frown, but he noticed she did not have a reply.

As the music started, Loki recognized the dance was Asgardian, albeit, an old one; it was called a balter and had originally been used in ancient fertility rites, if he was remembering his history correctly. He stood closely behind her, placing one hand on her waist and holding her other hand out from their bodies. They moved in stately steps in a circle with the other dancers before she spun away from him, into the circle with the other women. Spinning back, she placed her hands on his shoulders and jumped as he lifted her up and then down to his side before him.

"Of what were you thinking when I interrupted your cousin?" He asked, unaccustomed to not understanding others' thoughts.

Yevanna spun away and then back, jumping. Her pale skin was tinted with flushed cheeks and her hair was starting to escape the neat bun she had in twisted in; he observed that she was quite exquisite. "I was trying to decide…if I should submit to another opportunity for him to paw at me…or break his nose."

He almost laughed at that. "Well, remind me not to upset you."

* * *

Yevanna left the great hall much later than she had anticipated, though she did not regret her late night. Almost despite herself, she had had a good time. Dancing had always been one of the few ladylike activities she indulged in and tonight she had no want of partners. Her favorite was the balter; though the intimacy between partners usually made her slightly uncomfortable, she loved the part where she leapt into the air. It was like flying. Prince Loki had been a decent partner, despite his continual pokings about Beowulf. Strangely during that dance, Yevanna had not for once been overly aware of how close she was to another being; rather, she was preoccupied with the fact that Asargdians smelled different from elves. Elves smelled like moss, petrichor, and wind—forest and nature things. Loki had smelled like leather, heat, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. She had noticed the same when Thor asked her for a dance and she was still trying to puzzle it out. It was not unpleasant, but as someone who spent a lot of time tracking, she felt she aught to recognize it.

She entered her moonlit room and started making ready for bed. By the Allfather, she did not know what to think about current events. Neither Prince Thor nor Prince Loki had given any indication why they were in Alfheimr. she got into bed; still, tomorrow would bring the first day of council that Fulk had called. And then the real work would begin.

* * *

**So, there you have it: chapter two. I'm so excited that Thor and Loki are here. I loooove writing Thor (he's just so damn happy most of the time). But of course it Loki we're all in love with ;). Lemme know what you think. Hopefully the dancing part made sense; I was just kind of making it up as I went. **


	3. Chapter 3: That Went Well

Chapter Three: That Went Well

Yevanna shifted restlessly in the uncomfortable stone chair; the council been called two hours ago and so far they had just finished announcing everyone by proper titles. Perhaps chainmail had been a bad clothing choice today, even if she had her silk surcoat over it. The Great Hall of the Citadel had been completely transformed from last night; instead of rows of long tables with a head table on the dais, everything had been replaced with a huge, round stone table. Light streamed in from the high windows, casting a warm glow over the otherwise cold stone of the room. She was sitting to the right of Fulk, with Beowulf on her other side. Theo stood behind them. Lord Driste and two of his generals were also seated as well as Melisende, her brother and an advisor. On the other side of the table were Thor and Loki. Yevanna wasn't sure if the aesir could become intoxicated, but if she didn't know better she would say Prince Thor looked as if he were nursing a hangover from the night before. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and she had noticed him wince once or twice at an overloud sound.

"And now we come to the purpose of this meeting." Fulk intoned. _Thank the Allfather_. "You have travelled from the far reaches of Alfheimr to hear the message of the Allfather. I turn the proceedings over to Thor, crown prince of Asgard." Fulk motioned to the burly man next to him, who slowly rose from his seat. Yevanna sat up a little straighter in her chair; perhaps the meeting would become interesting at this point.

"My lords and Ladies of the Elvenhome, my father, King Odin of Asgard, sends his greetings. He wishes us" Thor motioned to himself and his brother " to bring a missive of great import. The Allfather sees much, and what he has seen troubles him. The Jotuns are marshalling their forces in the north and we think they mean to make war on Asgard." He paused, letting the news sink into the rest of the assembly.

"And now the Allfather wants an alliance between Elves and Aesir? Tell me, son of Asgard, why should we aid Odin when he would not lift a finger for us during our time of need?" Driste snapped.

"Because, you fool, the frost giants are not only bringing war to Asgard, but to all the realms; and they are not coming alone." Loki retorted.

"You have proof of this?" Beowulf questioned.

"Yes," cut in Thor before anyone else could interject. "Heimdall has seen the Jotun sneaking through the dark roads to Hel, Niflheim, and Svartalfaheimr." A long pause hung over the table as his words sunk in and then suddenly it seemed the entire world erupted in protest. Their voices bounced off of the stone walls, amplified and distorted.

"Surely you cannot expect us to fight all the forces of darkness!"

"Why should we help Asgard?"

"Has the Allfather taken leave of his senses?"

"Where is the benefit for us?"

"Let the Darkness come to the Aesir, so they may suffer the way we have!"

"Dark elves, dwarves, ice monsters, and the forces of Hel? You ask too much Odinsons."

"Odin…death! Cannot!...Frost Giants!"

The din became unbearable; Yevanna stood, causing her chair to scrape loudly behind her and slammed her hands on the table. Everyone stopped shouting in mid-sentence.

"Are we children of Midgard that we do nothing but squabble about our own gains and cannot see greater ends?" the force of everyone's stare weighed down on her, but at least she had their attention.

"Clearly, if the Jotuns have made the effort to reach out to other realms, they will not be satisfied with only Asgard. Are we to let all the worlds be destroyed because of our bitterness?"

Ibelin, brother of Melisende spoke up. "With all due respect, Yevanna, you are too young to know what horrors the Aesir allowed here. You did not see the blacked earth and the rivers of blood. Or the Darkness tearing us apart from the inside. You have never held a child as they choked on their own blood and bile. So do not tell me that I must aid the House of Odin, when he would not aid all of Alfheimr."

She signed and rubbed her temple. "What you have said is true; I am too young to remember. But that is why my father, King Theoderic, sent me instead of coming himself. My judgment is not clouded with rage."

"Or perhaps the House of Theoderic has gone soft."

Yevanna's felt as if she had been struck with lightening and her vision clouded red with rage; she placed her hand on Eld's hilt menacingly. "Would you care to repeat those words or shall I rob your body of its pretty head right now?"

Ibelin stood, hand on the hilt of his dagger. "I am not frightened of a wisp of a girl."

"Then that shall be your last mistake!"

"ENOUGH!" Fulk thundered. "We have assembled to talk of peace and accords, not be at each other's throats! The council is dismissed for today and do not think to bring your weapons back into this chamber!"

Yevanna turned and stormed out before she really did cut the fool's head off.

* * *

"That went well." Loki stated dryly.

Thor frowned. "I do not understand why they are so hostile."

The brothers were back in their complex of rooms at the top of the Citadel the evening after the first council meeting. Thor was sitting on the windowsill looking morose. Loki leaned against a nearby pillar.

"They appear to be under the impression that their civil war some centuries ago was our fault."

"Surely they know the Allfather was in the Odinsleep when that happened. There was nothing we could do."

Loki sighed. "Apparently the elves missed that message." He righted himself from the column. Thor was in a mood tonight and he didn't feel like dealing with it. "I think I shall look for the library. King Fulk informed me that he owns a number of volumes on magic."

The library was a large and airy room with concentric curved shelves and many tables and benches spread throughout for reading. Loki browsed slowly, looking for something to pique his interest. Despite Thor's overly optimistic attitude, the council has gone almost exactly the way he had predicted; although the fact that some of the elves seemed receptive gave their purpose a small glimmer of hope. In general, though, the elves had been hostile since their great kingdom broke up and power was relegated to a number of smaller royal houses. He wondered idly how the other emissaries sent by Odin were doing in.

As he turned down a new row of shelves, he came upon Yevanna perched on a small bench at a window. She was dressed down in grey trousers and a red tunic; her hair was loose and seemed to almost cocoon her slight frame in a halo of fire. She was completely absorbed in what she was reading. Loki wasn't sure if he should back away silently or make his presence known. Oddly, the thought of sitting alone all evening didn't appeal to him. He moved closer to her until he was only a few feet away.

"What are you reading?"

She jumped at the sound of his soft voice, visibly startled. Her hand reached for what he presumed would be her sword, though she wasn't wearing it.

"You should not sneak up on people so!" She chided, though relaxing noticeably when she realized he wasn't a threat. Swinging her legs off of the bench she indicated he should sit. Loki did so, sitting uneasily on the edge of the bench. He raked a hand through is hair.

"How regretful are you of coming here, now that you saw the way the best of the Elvenkind act today?"

"Yes, well, I do not think I have ever seen a man so fearful of losing his head nor a woman so hell-bent on relieving him of it."

She frowned, "True, I should not have been so rash, especially after scolding everyone else for bickering." Loki let the comment hang for a moment; he did not feel like discussing politics. If he wanted that, he would have stayed with Thor.

He tapped her book. "What are you reading?"

She looked down, as if to remind herself. "Oh this? Its Midgardian literature, brought back to Alfheimr before the ways between the worlds became more difficult and dangerous. It's about a woman pretending to be a knight so that she can inherit her father's lands. Its…ah supposed to be funny."

"Midgardians have a strange sense of humor." He observed. Loki wasn't entirely sure why he was having this conversation; usually he liked to be alone but there was something just plain interesting about this girl. He was intrigued by the relaxed elf he saw in front of him. Most of the time she seemed very conscious of how others were observing and reacting to her, but other times, like now, she was much more relaxed. This was also the only time he'd seen her with her hair down; perhaps that had something to do with it.

"So, what do you enjoy reading?" She inquired.

"What makes you think I find reading enjoyable?"

She leaned forward as if to whisper a very dire secret and looked into his eyes; he leaned in to meet her. "I can read minds."

Her voice was deadly serious and it took him a moment to register that she was making a joke. Tossing her head back she laughed. "We are in a library; it does not take much thought to come to that conclusion."

He chuckled. "Very true, my lady. But to attend to your question: more often than not books about magic."

"I think all books are a sort of magic."

He smiled slightly. "Perhaps you are right."

* * *

Beowulf sat pensively in front of the fireplace in the room which he shared with Theo. He had spent all afternoon in conference with Ibelin, trying to smooth over the rupture between him and Yevanna. It had taken some sweet talking, but eventually Ibelin had admitted the error of his speech. Now Beowulf only had to convince Yevanna of her own hotheadedness.

He sighed. He did not understand her; he did so much for her and yet she still refused to entertain any thoughts of marrying him. They had grown up together, spent days running through the forest alone, jumping from tree to tree, and diving down waterfalls. He had once known how to make her laugh for almost no reason. Yet the moment her father had impressed upon her the situation of her position as heir, she had become a different person almost overnight. She refused to show him any affection or even friendship. He had always assumed they would marry and rule the Western Woods together, but it seemed the closer the time of marriage came, the more resistant Yevanna became to him.

The door opened and Theo walked in, carrying his sword. "Have you seen Yevanna? We were supposed to meet in the yard to practice."

Beowulf looked up, snapped out of his reprieve. "No…though I'll wager she's either sleeping or in the library. I'll go look for her."

"You do not have to. I rather think I will sleep as well. Quite an exciting day, and all that." The young elf smiled and walked to his bed to start undressing.

Beowulf shrugged, it did not matter to him either way. He liked Theoderic though; as much as Yevanna was cold to him, and as much as Theo hero-worshiped the girl, he was always friendly with Beowulf. Either the boy was completely oblivious or had learned to play the game of politics well.

He stood and stretched; perhaps he should find Yevanna. They still needed to discuss their position on Asgard's proposal, though he was quite sure he knew what she would say. The trouble would be convincing the other elves to agree with her.

Having knocked at her chamber door and finding it empty, Beowulf made his way to the library after asking direction from a passing pageboy. Fulk's library was impressive, though not as impressive as King Theoderic's. He wandered in a rather aimless fashion through the curved shelves; Yevanna had probably squirreled herself deep within the room where no one was likely to find her if they were trying. She was good at hiding and he had learned long ago that it was best to just let his feet carry him in some direction instead of using any systematic method for finding her.

His ears pricked to the sound of laughter; turning the corner, than another, Beowulf found himself facing her. She was relaxed and smiling in a way he hadn't seen since they were children. Sitting next to her was the Lie-smith, looking bemused but in a more reserved manner, with a slight smirk on his face. Beowulf felt the need to protect and fury rise up in him, battling for supremacy. Why in the Allfather's name was she stupid enough to be alone with the most dangerous trickster in all the nine realms? What was _he_ up to, talking to Yevanna in such a private setting?

Beowulf took a step forward. At the sound of his footstep, Yevanna's head snapped up and her usual cold expression slid over her face. She said something to the Lie-smith, who stood and kissed her the back of her hand before slipping away between the shelves. She walked towards him.

"You require something?"

Her tone made him angry; if he hadn't come along, Allfather knew what the Trickster's silver tongue would have coaxed her into. "I though perhaps you would like to discuss our business for tomorrow, but I see you've already been busy with diplomacy."

She stared at him blankly, after a moment of silence: "If there is something you wish to say to me, by all means, please do not hold your tongue."

"You should not be so trusting of the Asgardians, especially the one known for lies and tricks! Your eagerness to speak for them makes you look like a child."

She recoiled as if he had struck her. Drawing herself up, her tone was icy. "Do not presume to tell me what to do. I am your princess and I am the one my father, the king, trusted to carry out these negotiations."

With that, she tossed her long, fiery hair and stormed off. Beowulf kicked a nearby bookshelf. She was so infuriating. Why could she not see the wisdom in his words? Instead she had to be imperious, cold, and petulant. This was the exact reason why they needed to wed; he could see what was best for her even when she was blinded by emotions.

"Yes, just a thought: calling her a child was not your best course of action." Beowulf spun around, trying to locate the mocking voice. His eyes fell upon the Lie-smith, dark and unreadable in the shadows.

"You do not frighten me, Trickster. I know your game." He spat.

Loki cocked his head to the side and smirk. "I really don't think you do."

The fury inside Beowulf spilled over and he took a step towards the Asgardian, fist raised. To his surprise, the Lie-smith laughed and in a blink of the eye, disappeared.

Beowulf was left feeling both ridiculous and enraged. Not only had he been scorned by Yevanna, but had been made to look a fool in the process. He could not wait for this mission to be over; if he never saw another Asgardian again, it would be too soon.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Weird that I gave Beowulf a p.o.v? Haha, well, maybe, but I thought it was the best way to make him a bit more dynamic of a character; hopefully he still comes off as an asshole. (Actually, that was my best friend's suggestion. She's kindly agreed to read [and edit] my story.) I would like to thank Iris Musicia and Theta-McBride for reviewing, as well as everybody who favorited and / or altered this story :) Now that my semester is over, I should have waaay more time to write; although I really should be writing my senior thesis, not about Loki. But what can I say, this is more interesting. Comments, concerns, and suggestions are all welcome. **


	4. Chapter 4: What Fresh Hell is This?

**Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you're all enjoying your winter break from school / university if you get one, or at least a few days off from work. **

* * *

Chapter Four: What Fresh Hell is This?

Fulk stood at the head of the stone table, casting his eyes slowly at those assembled in a chiding manner. "I trust we have all settled our thoughts since yesterday?"

No one responded and the awkward silence stretched over the room. Yevanna, for one, felt like a naughty child being scolded and from the uncomfortable looks everyone else was wearing, she was guessing most others felt the same way. Ibelin had not even bothered to show up. Loki caught her eye as she surveyed those seated; he winked and turned his attention to Fulk. She looked away and smiled to herself. Yevanna had greatly enjoyed spending time with the Asgardian the night before. He had a wicked sense of humor backed up by a keen intelligence that, upon reflection, shouldn't surprise her; he was a trickster after all. But he was usually so solemn that it was hard to imagine sometimes. Beowulf's interruption had put a damper on her night, though she wasn't sure if it was because he had insulted her or because of what he interrupted. Still, while his words stung it was because they might have some truth to them. Loki was dangerous; but then again, so was she.

"Good. Then if Prince Thor would like to _finish_ delivering King Odin's message, perhaps we could make some progress today?" Fulk sat down, still looking quite cross.

Thor stood, the confidence that had been in his face yesterday was gone, replaced by a strange sense of insecurity. Yevanna was willing to bet that it was a new feeling for the god of thunder. He cleared his throat and glanced at Loki for a moment before speaking. His gaze was focused on somewhere to the right of her head, not meeting the eyes of anyone in the room.

"Friends, yesterday you were right in thinking that the Allfather wants an alliance between elves and aesir. But that is not all. We would not think to face the rest of the realms on our own, nor would we force our elven brothers and sisters to the same fate. My mother, Queen Frigga, has been sent to Muspellheim to speak to the creatures of fire and the Vanir have already agreed to aid Asgard. We seek an alliance with all the realms who would not see the ice of Jotunheim spread."

"What of Midgard?" Melisende questioned.

Thor paused. "The Allfather thought the Midgardians too primitive to be of use; it is best to leave them be if possible." A quite chuckle went around the table at that. Midgardians were considered the one of the least developed species in the cosmos; they had no magic, their lives were alarmingly short, and they seemed to fear every other race of the nine realms if their legends could be trusted to accurately reflect the society which created them.

Loki stood and smiled reassuringly at the table. "The Allfather wishes to emphasize that this alliance would not come at the cost of your sovereignty. Your troops or any aid sent would be directly under your supervision. It was his hope that some of your generals would venture with us to Asgard."

"There is truly nothing else the Allfather wants?" Lord Driste asked skeptically.

"The alliance would of course be made official with diplomatic gifts and exchanges." Loki answered quickly, as if to discourage further questions.

"What type of diplomatic exchanges?" Driste questioned further. Some people apparently could not read a hint.

Loki fixed his emerald eyes on the elf's red ones as a charming smile spread across is handsome face; his voice was low and reassuring. "That depends on who decides to join our cause."

Silence spread across the room at that; while some seemed to be contemplating taking the princes up on their offer, others seemed less sure. Yevanna did not wish to see the council come to a halting stop and it seemed long standing grudges were going to outweigh self-preservation. She cleared her throat. "So, to surmise, The Jotuns are approaching the dark elves, dwarves, Hel, and the creatures of ice in an effort to bring war to Asgard and, presumably, the rest of the realms. In hopes of stopping them the Allfather offers a military alliance between us, the aesir, the vanir, and creatures of fire?" she paused, letting her words sink in. "As representative of my people, I believe that our only hope of surviving is to join this alliance. I the Jotuns are not as strong as we think, all the better. We can beat them quickly and force our terms on them. If they are forming alliances with others, is it not better to meet the threat head on? If there is to be a cosmic battle between good and evil, our ancestors will be shamed if we do not join."

She tried to meet the eyes of the others, but they looked away.

"But what proof have they of this?" Driste demanded.

"We have given you all the proof you need." Thor exclaimed.

"Words only! Heimdall has seen it, the Allfather has seen it. Where is your _proof_?"

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Yevanna questioned.

"Why are you being so trusting?" He countered.

"Because I would rather try to stop a frost giant invasion on the battlefield than sit in my hall waiting to be slaughtered while I sleep." She looked to Thor and Loki. "I extend the hand of friendship to the Princes of Asgard and invite you to the Hidden City, the capital of the Western Woods, to discuss the Allfather's proposals with my father, King Theoderic."

Thor clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "We would be honored, my lady Yevanna."

Fulk stood. "It seems we have come to an impasse in our negotiations; I believe it would be beneficial for you, my guests, to return to your kingdoms and await the princes for deeper negotiations."

"Then you must come to the Eastern Shores as well." Melisende intoned after a short pause. It seemed she did not want to miss the opportunity to have quiet dealings with the King of Asgard.

"And the Southern Mountains." Driste added, though hesitantly.

"It is settled then. We shall disperse from this place and go forth in our own dealings." Fulk was solemn, and Yevanna shared his feelings; it was upsetting that a once great kingdom was reduced to a handful of bickering princelings who could not work together or see beyond their own ends. Her grandfather, Fingole, had been the last High King of Alfheimr and sometimes she wondered what he would think if he could see the state of his realm now.

As the council wound down, it was decided that Thor and Loki would finished up their business with King Fulk then head south first, to the mountain kingdom, as it was closer. Then they would come to the Western Woods and finally the Eastern Shores before going home. Most people were out of their seats, milling around the great chamber in groups of two or three. Yevanna was standing quietly next to Beowulf and Theo, who were talking about horses. She tuned them out; she had never been particularly mad about horses, though she loved her own well enough. Instead she was half watching the others, half simply letting her mind wander.

When she reached home, she would need to report to her father about everything that had transpired here. Though she was not looking forward to bringing up her hotheadedness or Ibelin's words; she was bound to receive a lecture and half on the duties and proper deportment of a monarch.

"anna…Lady Yevanna?" She snapped back to reality to find Thor before her. She inclined her head and tried to refocus her eyes.

"My apologies; I was miles away."

Thor grinned warmly. "No apologies necessary, my lady. I simply wanted to thank you for all the support you've lent to our mission."

She smiled. "It is what I believe to be right."

"Then I admire you even more. I am very excited to see the Western Woods; I hear it is unlike anything in all the nine realms."

Yevanna laughed. "Well, I certainly think so, however it is my home. But yes, it is a living city made from the trees of the forest and the soul of the forest."

"If you like beautiful cities, you should see Asgard someday. I am confident the Allfather would be pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I would be honored to go to Asgard and meet King Odin."

Thor smiled at her words.

* * *

Yevanna stood in the stable yard early the next morning, waiting for her company to be ready. The breath of elves and horses clouded the gray pre-dawn light. She rolled her neck and shoulders, making her joints pop in a most satisfying way. Soon she would be home. Though the night before would be her last chance to sleep in a comfortable bed for the next week, she had not been able to sleep for anticipation.

"What a perfectly dreadful time of day to be awake." She turned to see Prince Loki leaning against an archway into the yard. He was smirking with a confident air, but the dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn't yet been to bed.

She stepped towards him. "I enjoy it: neither night nor day, but the best of both. If you dislike it so, why are you awake?"

He tsk-ed his tongue. "And here I came to wish you a fair journey."

Loki righted himself from the archway and frowned, as if he really didn't know why he was there. He took her gloved hand in his; pressing something heavy into her palm, he folded her fingers over. She couldn't help but notice how long and graceful his hands were.

"Here."

"What is it?" She was very curious, but he still held her hand closed. She peered into his face; his emerald eyes were earnest and the air of confidence had vanished to be replaced with a soft, intense look.

"In Asgard, it is tradition to exchange tokens of friendship when parting from a new acquaintance for the first time."

"Oh." She paused, wondering if she should give something in return. Not that she really had anything at hand to give. "Thank you. I am well pleased you count me worthy of your friendship."

"Do not mention it." She couldn't tell if he was speaking literally or figuratively. He chuckled to himself, it seemed. "You are worthy of much more than my friendship."

"Whatever do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." He smiled at her and she thought his emerald eyes might have been sparkling with mischief. "You have a long journey ahead of you?"

"Yes, about seven days, give or take."

"Then I should not keep you waiting. I will see you again soon, Yeva." He kissed the back her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go; she opened her fingers, wondering what she would find. Resting against the soft brown leather was a delicately wrought gold leaf with a large green jewel where stem met body and smaller, clear, white stones on the six tips.

"This is lovely, thank you Loki." She rubbed her thumb over the green gem as it glittered in the torchlight. "I must apologize; I do not have anything to give in return at the present time."

She looked up, expecting a sarcastic reply only to find Loki had vanished and she was standing alone.

"Yeva!" Theo called from the other side of the yard. "We should depart soon."

She turned, slipping the leaf into the inner pocket of her cloak and made her way to her horse. Swinging her leg over the saddle, Yevanna and the others fell into a two columns; her cousin was to her right and Theo directly behind her.

"What were you doing over there?" Beowulf questioned.

"Hmm?" Had he not seen Loki? "Nothing, I thought I saw something, but I was wrong." Beowulf looked as if he didn't believe her, but she didn't care. Yevanna was sick of his pettiness. He acted as if she were a child and he was so much wiser. She was not about to arouse his jealous nature and tell him of the gift Loki had given her when she herself did not know what to think of it.

* * *

They had been on the road for three days, and were only half way to their destination. Yevanna had sent a messenger ahead to alert the King of their return and relay the fact that the two Asgardian princes would be arriving in roughly a month. She and her company hadn't yet reached the forest, but were still in gently rolling pastures dotted with small patches of trees; twilight was upon them.

"We should make camp." Yevanna called back to Theo. Raising his left hand, he gave the signal for the scouts to peel off from the group and look for an appropriate area to rest for the evening.

The wind picked up. Yevanna inhaled deeply; the countryside smelled of apples, grass, and sky. She frowned; something was wrong. There was a rotten, acidic smell mingled with the wind. Her light blue eyes widened.

"What fresh hell is this?" Beowulf spat.

"Goblins!" she wheeled her horse around and Beowulf gave two short blasts of his horn, signally the riders that they should fall into skirmish formation; it was better to stand and fight then lead them on their heels to the Hidden City. She pulled Eld from its scabbard, the blade alight with the white flame which lent the weapon its name. The stench became stronger and the thunder of hooves could be heard in the distance, amplifying as they came closer.

Upon the crest of the next hill the goblins appeared, twice outnumbering her men. They charged.

"Steady. Wait until they have come into the valley. Archers, pick as many off as you can. Take no prisoners." She commanded.

Her two archers let loose their arrows finding their target in the chests of two goblins. More were felled, but they were still an impressive host. When they had reached the valley floor, Yevanna thrust her sword forward and charged. A long note on the horn was sounded and the thunder of their horse joined the din. Elf met goblin and chaos ensured. She swung Eld, meeting both sword and flesh; the shrieks of the dying and wounded filled her ears and the smell of death and fear assailed her nostrils.

A goblin on horseback came at her; she parried his sword thrust and cut him across the back, casting the creature to the earth. She stabbed left, catching another in the throat. Another parry and thrust; black blood spurted into her face. On and on it went; she could see her riders gleaming brightly in the slimy, goblin horde. They seemed to be doing well.

Reaching the edge of the fight, she turned her horse ready to reenter the fray. Suddenly, his hoof caught on a something and she was pitched forwarded, hitting the gore covered earth with a sickening crack. Intense pain shot up her left side, but she rolled over and righted herself quickly, though her horse had bolted. Yevanna clutched Eld and surveyed the carnage around her. A sharp movement to her right alerted her to an attacker. Spinning quickly her sword met his axe in a shower of sparks, a sudden cut to the femoral artery and she dispatched him to Hel. The crunch of bone sent her turning to the left. Before her was the biggest goblin she had ever seen; he was larger than Prince Thor and covered his scars. His pinched face, bat-like ears and tusks made him truly grotesque. This must be their leader.

"Iron-maiden" It growled more that spoke. He swung his war hammer, pushing her back and she stumbled. Landing on her knees, Yevanna held Eld up in a defensive move.

"Stand up girl." Wiping the blood and sweat and Allfather knew what else from her eyes, Yevanna stood shakily; at least four of her ribs were cracked judging from the pain in her chest. He came at her again and she parried, but just barely. She was not so lucky with his second swing. It smacked into her right arm; the adamantine chainmail stopped the hammer-head from taking off her arm entirely, but the pain that laced into her shoulder told her the bone was broken. If she had been in any other armor, her arm would have been lost. Regardless, with these broken bones, both of her arms were practically useless. The beast raises his arm again to come at her and she knew she had to make her next move count. _Think, Yeva! Use his size against him: be swift. _Suddenly, she saw her opportunity. When he swung again, instead of meeting his war hammer, she twisted her body away from him. Circling to his side she struck at his legs, bringing him to his knees. Gripping Eld with both hands, she swung towards his neck with all her might, screaming through the pain.

His ugly head went flying across the battlefield and landed in a knot of goblins. When they realized what was in their midst, they shrieked and scattered. The world wobbled for a moment, and Yevanna found herself kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily. Leaning on Eld, she righted herself and watched as the last of the goblins were run down or shot.

Beowulf appeared before her with a nasty cut across his face. Placing his hand over his heart, he inclined his head. "Amin khiluva lle a' gurtha ar' thar. You're injured."

"I am fine." She snapped, angry at herself for getting hurt and him for noticing. "How are the others?"

"Broken bones and some nasty cuts that might become infected but nothing serious. Except…" He trailed off and looked at her warily.

"Except what?!"

"It's Theo."

Yevanna dashed across the field, all thoughts of her own pain gone. The company was either milling around, recollecting the horses, tending to their wounds, and looting for supplies and treasure, or gathered around what she assumed was her young friend. He was lying on the ground, moaning in pain. His left arm was crushed and shattered; Heldris, their healer, had tied a tourniquet at his shoulder so he didn't bleed out. She knelt down at his side and brushed the hair out of his face with her slightly more useful hand. She felt extremely responsible for every man in her company, but especially Theo because he was so young and because he had so much faith in her.

"What happened?" She barked.

"A goblin tried to split his head with a morning star, he blocked with his arm. It's going to have to come off." At those words, Theo groaned louder.

Yevanna handed Heldris her sword. "Use this, the fire with cauterize the wound. Someone get him something to bite!"

"You want to do it right here?" Beowulf asked, shocked.

"My Lord, if we leave it until we get him home, an infection could fester and spread, killing him. It's best to take care of it now." Heldris murmured. That ended the argument quickly.

Theo was given a thick stick to clamp down on; Yevanna sat to his right, holding his other hand. Heldris raised the sword and with one single thwack, severed the limb from the body. Theo's eyes widened; he screamed and cracked the stick in his mouth, but it held. His grip on her hand tightened, but she could bear it as he was fairly weak at this point.

"I am so sorry, Theo." She whispered.

The rest of the journey was solemn and they moved as fast as they dared with Theo's injury. In the end, they had to tie him to Beowulf's horse and have the other elf hold him upright. As for Yevanna, every jarring footfall of the horse was a sharp pain in her side and shoulder. It was not a moment too soon when the green and gold gates of the Hidden City appeared before them and the Moon Horn was blown to signal their arrival.

* * *

**Well that was quite the action packed ending, yes? I hope I didn't offend anyone with the comments about midgardians being sucky ;) If it puts things into perspective, I imagine that while this story is going on it's roughly year 1000 A.D. on Earth, so smack dab in the Middle Ages. **

**Cultural**** notes for this chapter (and last chapter too, kind of): "Heldris" is from a medieval romance called_ Le Roman de Silence_ or _Silence_ if you're reading an English translation. It's actually the book Yevanna was reading in the last chapter when Loki interrupted her in the library. Heldris (of Cornwall) is the name the narrator gives himself, though scholars aren't sure if that was the real author's name, as it seems to be from Arthurian legends as well. I would totally recommend it; it's a pretty fast read and if you get the bilingual edition, it's kind of cool to see the medieval french text. **

**"Eld" means fire in modern Swedish (at least according to Googletranslate). I figure that it's self evident at this point, but I better clarify to be sure.**

**"Amin khiluva lle a' gurtha ar' thar" (Beowulf says it to Yevanna after the battle) is a a battle cry in Tolkien's elvish which means "I will follow you to death and beyond." It's Yevanna's company's battle cry. **

**I also want to make a note on the other realms. I'm basing my nine realms off of the Wikipedia page for Norse cosmology, which is based from the Poetic and Prose Edda (the main primary source for Norse Mythology). I guess there is a slight difference between that and the Marvel universe? Anyway, there's more races of creatures with the Jotuns because apparently dark elves and dwarves were originally the same thing, but since culturally today we think of elves and dwarves as separate (thank you, Tolkien), I made them two distinct peoples who both live on Svartálfaheim. **

**Sorry for the extensive notes! I just want to make sure everyone is on the same page and I'm citing any source material I take from other works. :) **

**I would like to thank Theta-McBride and Deathcab4kimmie for reviewing the last chapter as well as anyone who alerted / favorited this story. Also, question to my reviewer thus far: do you guys like it that I respond to your reviews or is it creepy? Heh, sometimes I can't tell if I'm being creepy or friendly. -_-'**

**I hope everyone has a safe and happy holidays (or did, since Hanukkah is over :/)! And as a holiday treat, I promise Loki will take his shirt off in the next chapter. ;) **


	5. Chapter 5: The Queen is on the Board

Chapter Five: The Queen is About to Come onto the Board

It was early morning about a month after their return to the Western Woods and Yevanna stood in the training yard absently swinging Eld in circles, passing it from hand to hand. She was waiting for Theo so he could practice fighting with one hand.

By the time they had made it back to the safety of the palace from their battle with the goblins, Theo had passed out and Yevanna felt lightheaded from the pain of her broken bones. Most of her company had been rushed to the healers and were patched up in a few hours; she, on the other hand, had to stay overnight with putrid mold slathered over her shoulder and side to induce the bones to knit themselves back together. Theo had been there for over a week, struggling with fever. Eventually though, he was released and was trying to come to terms with living life with only one arm. Yevanna did not envy him the struggle; as a warrior he would be pitied and in a society were perfection and beauty were highly prized, he would always be at odds. Still, she vowed to help him as much as she could because he was her friend and she felt responsible for his injuries.

In the meantime, she had to explain not only their injuries but all that had transpired at the Citadel to her father. He had been well pleased to hear that Thor and Loki would be paying them a visit. He was somewhat less happy to hear about her near duel with Ibelin.

_"My dear, someday you will lead this kingdom. I am very pleased with your progress in regards to the Asgardian princes; however, you must learn to rule not only your people but also your tongue and temper."_

_ "But father, he insulted you." She sulked, knowing it was a weak excuse. _

_ "And I am none the lesser for it. Some words have effect whether you acknowledge them or not, others are less powerful. You must learn to tell the difference and act accordingly." His stern look softened a bit. "Overall I am very proud of you, my dear. You will be a wise queen someday." _

_ She smiled at his praise, glad to hear she had not disappointed him. "Thank you, father." _

Theo appeared in the yard, looking nervous and uncomfortable in his new armor which had been created to seamlessly cover his left shoulder. Mostly he just needed to work on recalibrating his balance and gaining back his confidence; luckily for Theo he hadn't lost his dominant arm.

"Good morning." She chirped. "Are you ready to begin?"

"Morning, Yeva." He said sounding glum. "Yes, I suppose I'm ready."

They took practice slow, working on making basic blocks and thrusts natural to his movements again; eventually they would spar like they used to, as if they were really in battle. But for now, Theo needed to focus on smaller goals. After an hour, she had gotten half a dozen hits in while he had gotten maybe two. He looked exhausted but still he was getting better as he hadn't even lost his balance today.

Yevanna saw a page approach from the corner of her eye. She stepped back and sheathed her sword. "That should be good for today. I will see you tomorrow?"

He nodded and she turned her attention to the messenger, who bowed low.

"Princess, you father requests your presence in his solarium."

"Please let him know I will make myself presentable then attend to him." With that she turned on her heel and headed for her bower to wash and dress for court.

Her quarters were three pavilions high up in the trees; the first two were open to the sky with moss and vine covered pillars. She usually used them for hosting small parties, listening to music, or reading. Her inner chamber where she slept was shielded from the weather with thick leafy branches and, in the spring and summer, flowers. It was her private retreat and no one was allowed in without her expressed permission, not even the king.

She sighed as she traded her chainmail for a dress and her boots for slippers. Today she choose and emerald green dress with delicate gold and brown flower embroidery; the gold underskirts trailed behind her softly. The green hue of the dress brought out the fiery tones of her hair, which she had bound to the back of her head in an intricately braided knot. Hopefully she would blend into the walls long enough to slip away if things got tedious. Though her father had requested she come to the solarium, the room reserved for more private aspects of kingship, she knew eventually they would migrate to the great hall.

As she was about to leave her sleeping chamber, Yevanna's eyes fell upon the leaf Loki had given her. She had placed it on a small table where some of her most prized possessions were on display: a cloak pin with her company's motto inscribed on it, a never dying blue flower from deep within the forest, a hand mirror which had belonged to her mother, and Loki's leaf. Without much thought, she plucked the leaf from her table and tucked it into the pocket in her skirts before heading down to her father.

Yevanna saw Beowulf enter the solarium as she rounded the corridor and groaned inwardly. On the plus side, whatever King Theoderic wanted to discuss couldn't be too important if her cousin were present. She opened the doors, shuddering briefly as she passed through the web of enchantments over the room to stop eavesdroppers and worse.

"Good morning father." She bowed her head, hand over her heart. Taking a seat at the wooden table where they were both seated, she nodded at Beowulf. "Cousin."

Theoderic peered at both of them, his bright blue eyes solemn and serious; perhaps she had been wrong in thinking he did not wish to discuss serious matters. As the golden light of mid-morning fell into the room, Yevanna noticed how old he looked, which was quite an accomplishment given that elves aged about as quickly as the aesir. He had wrinkles around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth; the golden radiance of his hair had dulled and was threaded with silver. He looked weary.

"I have received news from the Great Plains." He motioned to a page of parchment at his elbow which bore the wax seal of King Fulk. "The body of Lord Ibelin, brother to Princess Melisende, was discovered hidden in the dungeons. It appears he was stabbed in the heart. I am sure I do not have to impress upon the both of you the seriousness of the situation and the fact that his murder would very possibly disrupt the peace in the Elvenhome." He paused, letting the gravity of the situation sink in. She could feel dread twisting in her stomach like a nest of vipers. Whatever had happened was not good. The fact that it was Lord Ibelin was even worse.

Theoderic looked straight at Yevanna, meeting her light eyes with his darker ones. "Seeing as you had a rather well witnessed quarrel with him, I must ask: did you murder Lord Ibelin?"

She stared at him a moment, speechless in utter shock; the knot of snakes in her stomach clenched tighter. "Father you cannot be serious!? We exchanged words, but nothing else! I swear." His expression remained stern, as if he did not yet believe her. "I swear on my future throne and on mother's grave I had nothing to do with this!"

Her earnest look must have convinece him, for the king's eyes softened and he leaned back in his high-backed chair. "I believe you, Yeva. I just needed to be sure; others will ask the same." He turned his withering gaze onto Beowulf. "Nephew, did you have anything to do with Lord Ibelin's death?"

Beowulf glanced at Yevanna, then back at his king, before finally folding his hands in his lap. "No, my lord."

"Good. The issue is settled. Speak of this to no one. Beowulf, you may leave." Theoderic dismissed the blond elf with a wave of his hand. Silence filled the room as he stood, pushed in his chair, and left. Yevanna frowned. She could understand why her father had to ask her such a question, but it still hurt that he did. Though honestly, she wondered who else would be demanding such answers from the King of the Western Woods; Melisende for certain. This could have the potential to damage their house greatly.

"Father, if I have ever given you a reason to doubt me…"

He held up a hand to silence her. "Suffice it to say that you have not and let us not speak of this unpleasantness again. Rather, I have another matter than needs attending to. The Asgardian princes are fast approaching and I want your opinion on their characters and trustworthiness. Beowulf, with his single-mindedness, is not completely helpful when it comes to reporting the subtleties of others."

Yevanna had briefly mentioned her impression of the two princes in her initial report on the council, but she had not thought to give much detail beyond the facts of what they wanted and that they would be coming. She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"Prince Thor is quite genial, easy to become friends with, and genuine with his emotions. He either is unable or thinks it unnecessary to cloud his intentions and thoughts from others. Prince Loki is quieter, more difficult to read. I think he uses his emotions strategically, when it suits him; he certainly does the strategizing for the two of them. He is skilled in negotiations when he decides to speak up, but at the Citadel he seemed happy enough to let Thor do most of the talking…and there is something else about him that I cannot put my finger on. Sometimes he does things that I don't think he understands why he does them, or, rather, he wishes to make that impression upon others. I cannot decide which, perhaps both in different situations."

Theoderic nodded. "Beowulf tells me you spent time alone with Prince Loki?"

She rolled her eyes, but could not stop heat from going to her ears. "Beowulf needs to get passed his obsessive jealousies. Yes, I talked with Prince Loki in the library for possibly an entire hour one night. We discussed our favorite books. It was very scandalous, father."

"You need not take that tone of voice with me, my dear. I was only asking as you seemed to have a more in-depth idea of his personality that the Storm's."

Her blush spread to her cheeks, a little embarrassed by her outburst. She was used to Beowulf's delusional accusations, and perhaps was rather touchy when it came to suggestions of a relationship with a man. Her father well knew that she refused to take a husband, so questions to that extent usually provoked at best sarcasm and at worst outright anger.

"I am sorry father. I meant no disrespect. When are the Asgardians arriving?"

"Perhaps in a few days, depending on when they meet up with the scouting party." It was impossible to gain entry to the Hidden City if one had never been there before, so Theoderic had sent a group of warriors out to lead Thor and Loki to the city. Depending on any hindrances they might meet on the road and how quickly they could be located, Yevanna calculated that the princes should be arriving in three days.

Theoderic stood and offered her his arm. "Come, we should be holding court."

As they walked down the silent green hallways, Yevanna wondered how much longer her father would rule. She had no strong desire to take up the duties of a monarch without him to guide her, but he was getting old. While elves could live for eons, they did not live forever and Theoderic was possibly the oldest elf in all of Alfheimr. She had always imagined he would abdicate his throne for her and be there whenever she needed guidance but now she was not so confident in her assumptions. A feeling of dread crept up her throat, but she pushed it back down. She was being ridiculous; Theoderic was not going to drop dead any time soon. It was just that she hadn't really looked at her father in a long time before today, and what she saw caused her worry.

"Yevanna?" His voice sounded troubled.

"Yes father?" They had reached the throne room, but Theoderic paused, not going in yet.

"Neither of the Asgardian princes tried to give you anything, did they?" His eyes were probing, but not untrusting. Her mind immediately flashed to Loki's leaf, tucked carefully in the folds of her dress. She hesitated though, recalling his words to not mention the gift.

"No, nothing." She felt awful lying to her father, but something insider her made her not want to explain the context of the gift to anyone. It seemed private, somehow almost intimate.

He nodded and they went in.

* * *

Loki shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. They had been on the road for a nearly two weeks and had not encountered any mishaps. Well, except for the fact that Thor had still been intoxicated from the night before when they left the Southern Mountains. Loki felt that his brother's actions were justly rewarded through the day and a half long hangover he spent on horseback. Regardless, their trip to the mountain kingdom had been particularly useless; Lord Driste refused to aid Asgard and none of his men had volunteered to join them when offered the chance. Still, Loki hadn't been holding his breath. The mountain elf had been obstinate since their first meeting; he had only invited them there to not miss out on any secret information. Which, given his lack of enthusiasm for their mission had not been forthcoming. King Fulk had proven more reliable as he had pledged a contingent of men headed by his son, Prince Aetius. Further, Loki and Thor were both reasonably sure that King Theodoric would be willing to aid them as well, given Princess Yevanna's support at the council. He smiled slightly, thinking of the fiery haired princess; he was certainly looking forward to seeing her again.

"You seem to be in a good mood today, brother." Thor remarked.

Loki erased the smile from his lips and glanced at his brother. "I was simply imagining the soft bed that will be waiting for me once we reach the wooded realm."

Thor laughed. "Too true! My ass can only take so long in a saddle. I imagine Theoderic's kingdom will be something to behold. It is the old capital of the great elven kingdom, is it not?"

"Yes…it was built by a magic greater than most elves today possess."

"I hope the ladies of the court are more welcoming that their mountain counterparts." He chuckled to himself. "If they are all like their princess in looks and manner…" Thor did not finish his sentence, but smiled to himself and rubbed his chin.

"Thor." Loki said, warningly.

"Forgive me, brother. I cannot help admiring." Glancing at the scowl on his brother's face, Thor laughed and rode away.

The rest of their trek was mostly silent for him; Thor carried on a conversation with the captain of their escort leaving Loki free to think about what next had to be done. He expected a certain amount of persuasion would be needed to bring King Theoderic around to their entire plan, though he imagined the elfking would agree to it eventually. He was less sure about the Eastern kingdom; Melisende seemed to like Thor, but Allfather knew what the death of her brother would do to her state of mind. Still, there had to be a way to use her grief to their advantage. Loki just needed to discover it.

Around nightfall the sound of horse hooves could be heard in the distance and Thor sent a scout out to see who was approaching. The lad returned about half an hour later followed by four elves on horseback. The leader, whom he recognized as Beowulf, bowed with his hand over his heart.

"Greetings my lords. King Theoderic sent us to lead you to the Hidden City. It is another three hours ride, but I can promise soft beds upon our arrival." Loki was rather surprised at the elf's mild manners; Beowulf did not seem to like him or Thor to a lesser extent. But he supposed the elfking had instructed his nephew to be on his best behavior.

Thor inclined his head in response. "Lead on then!"

Perhaps three hours had passed, though it was difficult to tell. They were deep within the forest, and if there was a path Loki could not discern it. It was nearly pitch black except for where patches of moonlight shone through the trees and he had the distinct feeling that the elves could see much better than he could. Eventually, they entered a clearing washed white and silver from the moon and stopped. He didn't have long to wonder what they were waiting for when a low, deep sound resonated from the other side. The sound made his bones hum and veins quicken; he had to hold down the reins of his horse to stop the creature form bolting. The foliage across from them shimmered and slowly folded back on itself revealing pearly white gates.

"Welcome to the capital of the Western Woods, princes of Asgard." Beowulf said, before urging his horse forward, into the sleeping city. As they rode up the shady, grassy boulevards to the palace, Loki observed that most buildings were partially stone and partially tree or shrub. It looked as if the skeleton of an earlier civilization had been consumed by the forest, but he was fairly certain it had originally been designed that way. The palace loomed before them on a hill; towers of trees sparkled with lit pavilions. It was eerily beautiful at under the moon, and he wondered how it would strike him by light of day.

By the time their horses were stabled and they had been shown to their pavilion it was well past midnight. Stripping down to a simple pair of sleeping pants, Loki stretched his lean body before surrendered himself to the bed with a sigh of relief; after so long on the road, it felt wonderful to lie in a real bed. He concentrated on relaxing every muscle from foot to neck and emptying his mind in preparation for sleep but one image stuck behind his eyes: Yevanna sitting in Fulk's library, reading peacefully. He couldn't explain why his mind had decided to focus on her. Though perhaps it was in anticipation of seeing the princess again. Still, after many a measured breath, his exhausted body overcame his mind and Loki succumbed to sleep.

* * *

"What do you think, my king?" Heimdall intoned, gazing down upon Alfheimr from the gates of Asgard.

"I think it's going surprisingly well. The pieces of the game are falling into place and the queen is about to come onto the board." Odin Allfather smiled to himself; this war was beginning to look as if it would go in their favor.

* * *

**So, what did you guys think? There wasn't too much going on in this chapter, but it served its purpose :). If you've got any constructive criticism, suggestions, concerns, or nice comments please review so I can improve what needs improvement.**

**Again, thanks to Theta-McBride and Deathcab4kimmie for your reviews! I always appreciate feedback! **


	6. Chapter 6: For Valhalla's Sake!

Chapter Six: For Valhalla's Sake!

Yevanna woke with the warm glow of summer sun on her face. It was later than she normally slept, but Theo had begged for a day off from practice and anyway Yevanna had much to do today. She had received news last night that Thor and Loki had arrived; Theoderic asked that she hold court while he greeted the princes in private. She was a little irked that she was not asked to join, but, then again, someone had to keep the kingdom running.

She stood and stretched before summoning a maid to help her dress knowing full well that she had to look every inch a lady today; no boots, no trousers, no chainmail. She chose a deep plum gown with gold embroidery in a geometric pattern around the neckline and waist. Deciding to leave her hair down for once, Yevanna had the maid arrange golden circlet in her hair. With a sigh she chose delicate gold slippers instead of her boots. She felt exposed and vulnerable without proper battle gear, but the throne room was not the place for it, at least not today. Before she left her bower, she fastened Loki's leaf to the front of her gown like a broach. She felt that if they were to meet again today, it was right that she had his friendship token with her.

Striding into the great hall, Yevanna sat gracefully on her throne leaving her father's larger one vacant and leaned Eld against its side. Before her were a couple dozen courtiers and a handful of common folk, though not all of them were present for business. Some people just liked watching court proceedings, especially when King Theoderic wasn't present. Everyone wanted to know how their future monarch would govern. She signaled the herald to approach.

"We will hear the petitions of the common folk first; they had travelled far to see us, the courtiers can wait." It felt odd using 'we' instead of 'I', but a ruler spoke for the kingdom as well as herself.

The first petition was in regards to an errant chicken; the only reason it was being dealt with by the royal court was because it happened on directly controlled royal land. Otherwise this would have been handled by a local magistrate. Apparently, someone's pet chicken had gotten out of its cage and wandered into the neighbor's barn. It had eaten nearly a pound of grain before being recovered. The neighbor wanted to take the chicken as payment; the owner didn't want to part with his pet. It was all rather ridiculous.

"We suggest that you simply repay your neighbor in eggs equal to the amount of grain your chicken ate." She waived them away and signaled for the next petitioner to approach.

A young elf with short cropped blond hair—an indication of his laborer status—approached. He bowed low, hand over his heart. "Your Royal Highness, I am Gawain, a simple blacksmith from Glennbrook. I have completed my master's piece, but my old master refuses to release me from my journeyman's contract. All I ask is that I am allowed to open my own smithy."

Yevanna weighed his words for a moment. "Why does your master refuse to release you from your contract?"

"I do not wish to speak ill of the man who trained me, but he is worried that another smithy in town would put him out of business…I am very skilled at my craft." He looked down at his shoes when he spoke, seemingly uncomfortable boasting about his skills to the princess.

Yevanna nodded. "Did you bring your master's piece with you? We would much like to see it." A Master's piece was the culmination of a craftsman's education; usually its completion marked their right to work on their own.

He nodded, looking a bit flustered and unlatched a small chest that he had been holding under his arm. She motioned for him to approach so she could see better. He did and knelt before her. Nestled in some fabric was a gleaming dagger. The wicked looking blade was curved and the hilt hooked down in the opposite direction. The sheath and hilt were inlaid with gold and emeralds in an intricate looping pattern on a backdrop of burnished silver metal.

"May I?" she motion towards the dagger.

"Of course, my lady."

Picking it up gingerly, Yevanna weighed its balance carefully; running the blade along her thumb, a bright line of red indicated its razor sharpness.

"What metal is it?"

"Adamantine, Highness." Adamantine was the strongest metal in Alfheimr, nearly indestructible; it was a good material and make. She placed it back into the chest and Gawain backed away.

"It is a wonderfully crafted piece. We shall grant you a missive indicating your completion of education and right to open your own smithy."

"Thank you, Highness!"

"However, we understand that setting up a smithy is an expensive undertaking; as such, we offer you five thousand gold sovereigns for your master's piece." It was a princely sum, and truth be told probably a little more than the dagger was worth, but Yevanna had an explicit purpose in mind for the blade.

She could see Gawain was torn between accepting the sum and giving away something he'd worked his whole life to create. Eventually he bowed. "Your Highness is too kind. I humbly accept."

She motioned for the herald to make the necessary arrangement and the next petitioner was brought forward. The morning passed in a blur of land arguments and feuds over livestock but by noon all the petitions of the commoners had been heard. Before the first lord could approach the dais, she stood.

"We shall break for lunch and return in an hour to hear your petitions."

Without another word, she stepped into an antechamber off of the great hall and sunk into the closest chair. Solving everyone else's problems was exhausting. A platter of cheese and fruit was placed on the table before her, and she absently nibbled at some goat's cheese. Hopefully her father would be finished meeting with the princes soon so he could hear the aristocrats; they were infinitely more pompous and difficult to deal with than commoners.

A knock on the door sounded and a moment later a messenger appeared before her, bowing. "My lady, King Theoderic bid me to relay that he is seeing to some personal business this afternoon and asks that you officially welcome Prince Thor and Prince Loki to the kingdom. He instructs that no more petitions are to be heard."

She chewed over his words slowly; on the bright side, she would not have to listen to complaints about honor being slighted, but what in Valhalla did he mean by personal business? "Send a message to my maid to bring the two chests. She will know what I mean. Also, make the announcement to palace that the princes of Asgard have arrived and court attendance is necessary."

The boy nodded and scurried off to do her bidding, leaving Yevanna to enjoy her meal in peace for about ten minutes before her maid arrived bearing the two small chests in question. She was quickly followed by Theo and Beowulf, who must have heard the summons and by nature of their rank had to be present besides her on the dais. Giving up completely on eating her meal in peace, she handed a chest to each of them.

"Come along boys, time to return to work."

The throne room was much fuller after lunch; most courtiers would come when summoned, but the chance to see the Asgardian princes was probably an even more enticing pull to be present. The official welcome ceremony wasn't particularly complex, but it did require a few crucial steps that Yevanna really did not want to ere on; every word had a specific purpose for binding the host to the hosted. She sat on her throne with Theo and Beowulf standing on either side of her and motioned for the herald to announce the princes. The large wooden doors at the end of the hall opened and trumpets sounded.

"Presenting to her Royal Highness Princess Yevanna of the Western Woods and her Court: Prince Thor Odinson, Crown Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder and Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies."

The two brothers strode in, clad in armor which she thought uniquely suited their different personalities. Thor was in gleaming silver heavy armor with a bright red cape affixed to his shoulders. Loki's armor was darker in color: leather with gold and green accents accompanied by a green cape. It looked quite complicated to wear. They were followed by a group of attendants and military men. Upon reaching the dais, they knelt in unison, hands over their hearts.

"Who shall vouchsafe them to this land?" The herald posed to the court, in keeping with the first step of the welcoming ritual.

"We say they are worthy." Yevanna intoned from the throne.

Thor raised his head and smiled. "Princess Yevanna, we are very pleased to see you again and be in your beautiful kingdom."

She looked from Thor to Loki, who kept his head down but had raised his eyes to her; he winked. She couldn't keep a smiled from spreading over her red lips. "Stand, my princes, please."

They did and she descended the stone dais to stand before them; motioning for Beowulf to follow her. He stood slightly behind her and opened the chest he carried. Inside on a pillow of red velvet was a pair of gleaming adamantine gauntlets.

"Please accept this gift, Prince Thor, from the Western Woods and King Theoderic."

"It would be my honor." Beowulf transferred the chest to Thor's servant and returned to his spot. Yevanna leaned forward and kissed Thor on both cheeks, though she had to stand on the tips of her toes to do so. His beard felt funny against her lips.

"Be welcome, Elf-Friend." She smiled and turned to Loki, who was, characteristically, smirking at her. She motioned for Theo to approach and she opened the chest he held, presenting Loki with the jeweled dagger she had purchased that morning.

"Please accept this gift, Prince Loki, from the Western Woods and Princess Yevanna."

"I am honored." Theo handed the chest to Loki's servant, who looked a little unsure of the one armed man. Yevanna leaned forward on her toes and placed her hand on his arm to steady herself; he gripped her upper arm, his fingers cool through the fabric of her gown. She kissed Loki on both cheeks, taking in his foreign but pleasant scent. Pulling away his emerald eyes, glittering with mischief, rested on the leaf pinned to her dress.

"Be welcome, Elf-Companion."

She stepped back to address all those assembled. "Tonight, we shall feast in honor of Asgard." A cheer rose up from the crowd and she motioned for her guests to go into the antechamber off of the great hall. She would not get much of an opportunity to speak to either of them until the feast that night.

* * *

Loki stood silently in what he assumed were gardens off of the great hall; sounds of revelry and light drifted through the open doors. Sometimes all the noise and the press of people around him was too much and he needed to get out, to be alone. Unlike Thor, he did not often prefer the company of others. The moonlight glimmered between the branches, illuminating silver and white flowers among the tall trees. He and Thor had accomplished a lot that day. They had meet with King Theoderic and explained the Allfather's proposal, including the specific benefits for his royal house.

_The Elfking looked serious. "Given the circumstances we have discussed I have no issue with your proposal, but you will have to get Yevanna's acquiescence."_

_ Loki gave the king a half smile. "Lady Yevanna has…more or less agreed to it already."_

_ Theoderic looked from Loki to Thor and back, and shook his head in disbelief. "A word of advice Odinsons, my daughter is not made of iron but rather the stuff of fire; if you anger her, there is not a force in the nine realms which can save you."_

The scuffle of shoes and swish of silk alerted Loki to the fact that he was no longer alone. He turned to see Yevanna framed in the door way. Her fiery hair cascaded in soft waves down to her waist and her cheeks were flushed rosy, with heat or wine he was not sure.

"I thought elves were light of foot and could move silently." He joked.

She smiled. "Unlike some, I do not consider it kind to sneak up on a friend."

He chuckled, she did have him there. "What takes you away from the festivities, my lady?"

She walked towards him and sat on the half-wall he was leaning against. "I could ask you the same thing; the festivities are in your honor, after all. But in truth, both Beowulf and Theo have been too liberal with their wine and I do not feel like dealing with it right now."

He chuckled. "Yes, what happened to young Theo? Last time I saw him, he had all his limbs. Did he anger you?"

She shoved him lightly in mock anger. "Has anyone ever told you that you're rather rude?"

He grinned. "They never really stop. But in all seriousness, what happened?"

The smile fell from her face, replaced by a serious, pensive look. "We met a company of goblins on our way home from the Citadel. Theo was the least lucky, but all of us were injured in some way."

He looked at her closer, trying to detect an imperfection. "And where are your injuries, Yevanna? You look lovely as ever."

It was difficult to tell in the moonlight, but he thought her cheeks might have grown redder at that; she certainly rolled her eyes.

"Do not try to use that silver tongue on me, son of Odin, for it shall not work. But to answer your question: I am fine now, just a few broken ribs and a broken arm. I was healed in a night."

Her blasé attitude towards serious injuries brought to home how dedicated Yevanna was about being a warrior. He had never quite grasped how well accustomed to a rough, violent life she was until that moment. In that way she reminded him of Thor's friend, lady Sif; they were both dedicated to proving that they were so much more than everyone expected. Yevanna was certainly not what he had expected to find in Alfheimr.

The soft strains of a new dance drifted the summer night over to them, pulling Loki form his thoughts. He stood and offered her his hand.

"May I have this dance?"

"Out here, by ourselves?" She sounded skeptical, but took his hand anyway.

"Of course. You don't really want to go in yet, do you?" She didn't answer so he wrapped his arm around her waist and slid easily into the opening rhythms. He led her in a large circle of steps before spinning her out and back to him. She twisted around him, so that they stood back to back with their hands clasped. Her body felt warm against his and he wondered if Theoderic was right that she was the stuff of fire. They stepped in the circle before her spun her out and in again, so that she faced him.

"I see you are wearing my gift." He murmured in her ear.

"Yes, I thought I should." She didn't elaborate and it seemed to him that she was unsure of her own actions. He smiled to himself, _good._

The song ended and he released her waist but not her hand. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed the back of her palm. "Thank you for the dance."

Instead of answering, her head snapped to look at the doorway and a moment later Loki heard footsteps.

"Yeva! Woman, are you out here?" Beowulf yelled from the lighted room. From the sound of the slur in his voice, Loki could tell that the elf certainly had been enjoying the wine.

"Oh for Valhalla's sake." Yevanna muttered and squeezed his hand. "Follow me!"

She took off down a tree covered path, pulling him along behind her. Loki could hardly see, but she seemed perfectly at home navigating the dark, twisting paths through the forest. Soon the sounds of the party faded and he wondered where she could possibly be taking him.

"Be careful, there are stairs ahead." They descended down, it seemed, into the heart of Alfheimr. A soft blue glow slowly became visible.

"Where are you leading me?"

Then entered a small circular chamber dominated by a clear blue pool that reach everywhere but the edge of the room. The light cast from the water's glow accentuated Yevanna's light blue eyes.

"This pool is connected to Mimir's Well, where the Allfather gave up his eye for wisdom. I like to come here to think sometimes. Not many in the Woods know of its existence and if they did only those of royal blood can access the chamber." She paused, pensive. "You can look if you like; sometimes the pool will show you the future, or the past. Sometimes it's nothing though. Don't gaze too long."

She let go of his hand and gave him a gentle nudge towards the edge of the pool. Kneeling down, Loki peered into the water.

* * *

Yevanna wasn't completely sure why she had brought Loki to the chamber, but when she had heard Beowulf's drunken voice in the darkness, it was her first instinct. This was her sanctuary, her secret hiding spot. As far as she was aware, only Theoderic knew of hits existence besides herself. Still, it had been nice, running through the dark with Loki beside her, his large hand holding her smaller one.

She walked around the pool to stand opposite his kneeling figure; the glow of the water cast his angular, handsome face into high relief, filling the hollows created by his cheekbones in shadows. She knelt to take a look as well; the pool would not show her the same thing as Loki saw.

For a moment all she saw was her reflection, her own light blue eyes, high cheekbones, curved red lips, and pointed chin surrounded by a cloud of fiery hair. Perhaps tonight she would see nothing. Then to her delight the water rippled; she saw herself seated on a great throne made a white wood with many bowing before her. She looked sad. The water rippled again and she saw a vast frozen wasteland; the focus of the vision zoomed in and she saw blood on snow. Yevanna pulled away, not wanting to see any more though her eyes caught a final vision of a boy with bluish tinged skin, dark hair, and bright blue eyes. She looked up and Loki was sitting across from her, frowning at the water.

"I hope you didn't see anything too troubling."

He looked up, meeting her eyes with his and gave her a wry half smile. "No, quite the opposite. And you?" She couldn't tell if he was lying to her or not, but she decide not to press the matter. The pool could show its viewer very intimate secrets and it wasn't her place to pry into the Asgardian's visions.

"Nothing troubling, I suppose. Just strange. Anyway, what the pool shows isn't set in stone; the future has many paths. I wouldn't even assume it shows events in order." Her words were just as much for her comfort as for his; the pool was in a fickle mood tonight and it would not do to dwell to long on its visions.

Loki strode across the chamber and stood before her. He reached down and, taking both her hands in his, helped her stand.

"We should be getting back or tongues may wag at our joint absence." He winked at her and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at his suggestive flirting; he was right, after all.

"Yes, I suppose. I'll lead you back, but I think I shall retire to bed; I usually wake early to help Theo train and tomorrow is no different."

He nodded. "Well then, lead on, my lady."

They reached the top of the stairs and the soft blue glow faded into the moonlit forest. She could see perfectly well, but she knew the aesir did not have such heightened sense. She held out her hand to him. "I don't think you can see as well as I."

Loki didn't like her pointing that out, she observed, but he took her hand regardless. The journey back was slower and she took her time to make sure he didn't trip over a tree root. They reached the edge of the lit pavilion near the great hall and stopped; the sound of revelry was still as loud, perhaps louder, than before. Yevanna looked up at him and smiled.

"Goodnight Loki, and thank you for the pleasant evening."

He looked down at her, an unreadable expression on his face; for a moment she thought he might try to kiss her. Surely, though, he knew that would result in a broken nose for him and a bloodied fist for her. She liked him, perhaps too much, but she had sworn never to wed so kissing was not an option. Surely he knew that?

A soft breeze blew a few locks of hair in her face. He reached forward, tucking them back behind her ear, trailing his fingers over the side of her face and down her neck as he did so. It sent shivers down her spine. She should really, really go back to her bower. She liked the feelings coursing through her body not at all. He brought both her hands to his lips and kissed them, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

"Goodnight, Yeva." His whispered words carried through the warm night air before they were lost, and it took all her will-power and good breeding to calmly turn and walk away instead of bolting as fast as she could. Though weather she wanted to run from him or her feelings, she could not say at the moment.

* * *

Loki walked into the great hall, his mind still on the pavilion outside. Stopping besides a long table laden with food and drink, he picked up a silver goblet and surveyed the room in an attempt to focus his mind and reduce his heartbeat to normal speed.

"Where have you been, Liesmith?" Loki sighed in exasperation, beginning to understand Yevanna's habit of avoiding Beowulf. The elf, currently red eyed and smelling of drink, stood before him. He fixed his most charming smile on his face and let the warm feeling of charisma flow through him.

"Admiring your lovely gardens."

"And did you happen to admire Yevanna while you were out there?"

"Of course not. I have not seen her all night, not since we ate." He picked at his nails in a bored manner as the lies rolled off his tongue with ease, though in Beowulf's current state he hardly needed the magic boost.

"Oh" The elf looked befuddled. "Well just, stay away from her. She doesn't need any of your mischief."

Loki cocked his head to the side. "I wouldn't think of it."

Before the elf could muddle through his meaning or reply, Thor approached and slung his arm around Loki's shoulders completely unaware of what was transpiring before him. "Brother, let us have a drinking game, like we do back home."

Loki smiled and allowed himself to be led away, for once please with Thor's exuberance for drink. "Please excuse me."

* * *

**Well, we've finally gotten in to some romantic-type feelings! Or at least, angsty-romantic-type feelings. I promise it gets less angsty as it goes on. ;) But what on earth did Yevanna see in the pool, and for that matter, what did Loki see? Hmmm and what in Valhalla do he and Thor have planned that they told Theoderic about? Tune in next week to find out :) **

**Comments, concerns, and constructive criticism are all welcome. **


	7. Chapter 7: I'll Collect On My Wager Now

**Hello All! If you've noticed, I've changed the rating of this fic from Teen to Mature. After re-reading the guidelines, I've decided that this story is rather violent and will contain adult themes. Also, this chapter is rather long, but I believe you'll find it worthwhile when you get to the end. ;)**

* * *

Chapter Seven: I Believe I Shall Collect on My Wager Now

Yevanna strode into the practice yard before dawn the next morning in dire need of something to vent her anger at. She had not slept a wink of sleep the night before, but had paced about her pavilion trying to sort out many a confusing feeling. _Curses upon Loki Odinson and his silver tongue_, she thought as she thwacked mercilessly at the practice dummy with a blunted sword, not excepting Theo for a few more hours.

She did enjoy spending time with Loki. She liked his wit, something many of the elves she knew were in dire need of, and last night it had been fun hiding from Beowulf with him. Though she hadn't known him long, she considered Loki a friend. But the way he had looked at her with his piecing green eyes had made a heat spread through her stomach that she wasn't sure she was comfortable with. It felt as if he could read her soul with that gaze. A blush came to her cheeks as she thought about the way he made her feel in the dark of the pavilion. Spinning around she hit the dummy's head so hard it went sailing clear across the yard. She motioned to the arms master's apprentice to bring her another one.

She rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind. Perhaps making such a fuss over everything was the problem; if she simply ignored the way he sometimes made her feel, the feelings could go away and she could resume her friendship. Possibly, hopefully. It could be better to focus on what the pool had shown her last night; it had been perplexing to say the least. The throne she had seen herself sitting on was not the one in the Hidden City. The blood on snow, was perhaps, easier to work out given the issues with Jotunheim. Though whose blood it could be was less clear. As for that strange child, Yevanna was at a complete loss. Keeping her mind working on the puzzle of her vision, she worked her way through half a dozen straw dummies before Theo entered the yard, still blurry eyed and wild haired. Behind him trailed Thor and Loki. Her heart sunk slightly, but she decided to ignore that as well.

"You look as if you just rolled out of bed, Theo!" She called with bravo, tossing a broken practice sword to the side and picking up another.

"Quite astute, Yeva and you look as if you haven't slept all night."

She shrugged, ignoring his comment and circled him, getting into position to spar. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the two Asgardians stand off to the side, as if to watch. "What took you so long heading down?"

Theo motioned to the princes. "I ran into them; they wanted to watch."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything about it; she was used to people watching her every move in public. "The usual, then?"

"Yes I suppose. When do you think we can start practicing like we used to?"

Theo looked a little abashed; Yevanna wondered if he was feeling uncomfortable with Thor and Loki present and if she should have said something. It seemed rather late, and rude, to ask them to leave, however.

"When you can land more hits on me that I can on you." She answer not unkindly, then they started.

She took it slow with Theo, as always, but focused on launching attacks on his left. He had progressed enough that she could work on the more advanced aspects of basic swordplay. Anyway, he needed to learn how to block from that side as enemies would natural go for a perceived weakness. Feigning seemed to give him some trouble after a while and Yevanna could tell that Theo was getting tired, and possibly ill from all the wine he had imbibed last night; she herself was ready to take a break. With one final move, she feigned right and swerved left hoping to finish him off, but Theo met her halfway through the swing and snapped her practice sword in half.

She gave him an astonished smile. "Very good, Theo. We'll be back to regular practices in no time."

He laughed, but the frowned, looking a little green. "Can we be finished for today? I feel as if last night's feast may reappear."

She nodded. "Of course, go sleep off your wine." Theo scurried off, possibly to the back of the sables to retch up his dinner. Yevanna walked over to Thor and Loki, after getting a drink of water, to see if they needed anything.

"Good morning, my lords." She chirped.

"Morning, lady Yevanna." Thor boomed, not the least bit affected by his revelry last night, for once. Perhaps he was getting used to elvish wine.

Loki nodded. "Morning."

"I trust you enjoyed the festivities last night?" The question was more directed at Thor, since she more or less knew how Loki has spent the evening.

"I quite enjoyed it! I have once again proven that I can hold my liquor better than any Elf or Aesir." Thor's grin spread and Loki looked slightly embarrassed at that remark; as the only other aesir in the realm, Yevanna surmised he had lost a drinking match to Thor last night. She raised her eyebrow.

"Oh, truly? Perhaps I should contend you on that." She said jokingly.

Thor laughed, gesturing at her small frame "Of course, a short game I think! But in truth, I did not venture here this morning to boast. I wish to request an opportunity to spar with you… In the practice yard, not the drinking table."

Yevanna was slightly taken aback by his request, as it was quite unexpected. She looked at Thor critically trying to decide if that was a wise course of action. He was literally twice her size in terms of body mass and head and shoulders taller. If she did practice with him, she'd have to beat him before he got one swing in and she wasn't feeling quite that fast this morning.

"In truth, Prince Thor, I do not know how to spar with a hammer like Mjölnir. And as for a warrior of your stature I would prefer to use diplomacy and cunning to defeat you rather that meet you head-on on the battlefield. I do not judge my battle prowess to be sufficient. At least not this morning."

"So you refuse my request?" He sounded surprised, but was smiling, so he could not be too disappointed.

"Yes, I'm afraid I must if I want to live to fight the frost giants at your sides." She motioned to both of them with a wave of her hand. "Besides, that is the advantage of a woman warrior; we can choose to disarm you with our charm on the dance floor or our swords on the battlefield."

"Like when you vanquished the troll king?" Loki asked.

"Yes, that was rather more luck and quick thinking than premeditated seduction." She retorted.

"I shudder to think what you would do if you were trying to seduce someone. It would kill the poor bastard!" Thor joked. Yevanna decided Thor had a strange sense of humor to joke about such personal things, but she didn't mind as much as she should. It made her feel like he was her friend as well. Besides, she had brought it up.

"That's usually the objective…" She trailed off.

"Will you fight me?" Loki asked suddenly with an amused look on his face.

Yevanna narrowed her eyes at him; that look usually meant trouble. However, if she were able to beat the ever-living Hel out of him, those feelings that had kept her up all night might go away. He'd be just another brother in arms, rather like Theo. She ran her eyes over his body weighing her options and tried to ignore the voice at the back of her head that told her _that _certainly wasn't helping anything. He was more lithe than Thor, so she wouldn't have to worry about him accidently crushing her spinal cord. However, he was a skilled magician, and she had little experience with fighting magic. Come to think of it, she wasn't even sure what weapon he fought with, besides magic. The thought that he might be insult if she agreed to fight him and not Thor crossed her mind, but given the fact he had asked she decided it wouldn't be too much of a slight on his honor. He usually had a reason for everything he did.

"Alright. What is your preferred weapon?"

He raised his right hand and, moving his fingers in a subtle manner, a three pronged golden staff appeared. "This…and throwing daggers. But I'll restrain myself for this fight."

Yevanna bristled slightly at that; she didn't need anyone holding back for her, for any reason, and for a split second she felt like telling him exactly where he could put his restraint. But that was the lack of sleep talking, so instead she motioned for a squire to bring her Eld. Secretly she couldn't help feeling a little impressed at seeing Loki use magic for the first time. He made it look effortless.

She swung Eld around in a circle, getting used to the weight after the wooden practice swords.

"Shall we make it more enjoyable and bet on the outcome?" Loki asked with mischief tingeing his velvet voice. He was looking at her with a half smile on his face, head cocked to the side as if he were reading her like a book. She tried to ignore that look made her feel and instead focused on reading him back.

"Fine. What shall we bet?" His smiled widened and she got a peculiar feeling in her stomach that she wouldn't like what he said next.

"A kiss." Her mouth dropped in shock at his audacity. She was really going to break his nose if she got the chance, but she couldn't back out now. If she did, she'd look foolish and betray more than she wanted to. If it appeared that a simple kiss was not an issue for her, not one would think twice. Besides, if she won, there were no rules that demanded she collect on it and perhaps Loki had only said it to get a reaction out of her. He was the God of Mischief after all.

"Fine."

They shook hands to seal the deal and moved into the center of the yard, facing each other. She clasped Eld in both hands and held it before her, warily waiting for him to make the first move. She didn't have to wait long; Loki swiped at her legs, as if to knock them out from under her. She blocked it easily and they circled each other like two mountain cats ready to pounce. She lunged forward towards his chest, but he knocked her sword away easily. They returned to their circling. He jabbed the spear forward and she spun to the side and batted the spear shaft out of the way before swinging her sword towards his now vulnerable arm. He side-stepped her attack lazily and reestablished his defense; the problem with spears was that it was difficult to get within sword's length. Yevanna was vaguely aware that the yard was filling up with spectators.

Loki smirked at her. "You're doing much better than most."

His condescending attitude coupled with her lack of sleep made her blood boil. Fine, she would show him why they called her the Iron-Maiden. She launched a fury of attacks on him, pressing ever closer. The smirk faltered from his face as she moved close enough to render his spear offensively useless. Trapping him into a defensive position, he was locked into using the shaft to rebuff her strikes and she pressed her advantage, slowly moving him back towards the wall. She got under his guard and sliced into his armor before he blocked her. His face was screwed up in concentration, but there was something else behind his eyes. Suddenly she felt uncomfortable; this was all going too well. There was no way she was going to win this so easily. The second the thought crossed her mind he disappeared from in front of her. She spun around quick as lightening, sword raised; it clashed with his spear dangerously close to her face.

"That's cheating." She snapped, pushing his weapon back.

A smile spread across his face. "You never said I couldn't."

He had her there, and now she was the one with her back to the wall, moving as quickly as she could to block his attacks.

"Why do I feel like you're playing with me?" She grunted as she wacked the spear away from her legs with a hastily downward pointed sword.

"Because, my dear, I am." With that, he swiveled his spear in a circle, sending Eld flying from her grasp. Yevanna probably could not have looked more surprised; no one had disarmed in a real fight her when she was lacking a significant injury in a very long time. She raised her hands and slowly walked backwards, towards the wall.

"Give up yet?" He teased, though not unkindly.

Her foot hit the stone and a smile spread across her face. "Not quite yet."

Using the wall for momentum, she ran at him, pulling a dagger from where it was strapped her wrist. Not expecting her sudden movement, Loki was caught off guard as she knocked him to the ground. They tumbled for a moment, limbs entangled, before she rolled away from him and crouched low. The spear clattered on the cobblestone ground and he was slowly rising to stand. It was a few feet away to Loki's right; Yevanna knew she could let him reach it, armed with only a dagger it would only be a matter of minutes before she was defeated. She barreled towards him again; knocking him over once more with thud, her legs straddling his hips, and pinning his arms to the ground. Raising the dagger high with both hands, she was ready to bring it down a hair's breadth from his throat. And then suddenly he was gone and she was pitched forward with just enough warning to allow her to roll onto her back if not hold onto the dagger. His spear, which he must have used magic to retrieve, was at her throat. She grabbed the blades and thrusting upward, hit him in the face with the blunt end; shredding her hands to ribbons in the process. He grunted in pain and stumbled backwards, giving her enough time to flip onto her feet and pull a small knife out of her boot. If she had learned anything from Beowulf it was always carry as many weapons as possible on your person. It hurt like Hel to hold the blade, but she managed. Suddenly, she felt cool metal at her throat and the Loki before her disappeared in a shimmer of gold. She was beaten, if not fairly. How fitting for the God of Mischief.

"Alright, I concede." She rasped, out of breath. Given Theo's injuries, it had been a while since she had such a physically taxing bout.

The blade from her throat disappeared and she dropped the knife she was carrying. Turning, Loki was right behind her, grinning. As his eyes fell on the blood gushing from her hands and his self-assured look faltered.

"Let me see." His voice brooked no argument, so she held out her injured hands to him. He dragged his long fingers gently down her palms, leaving golden thread in their wake. The cuts knit themselves back together as the threads vanished. She looked up and him to see that strange look on his face again.

"Thank you." She murmured.

He nodded, but was distracted from replying by Thor's deep laughter.

"Pray tell, what is so humorous, brother?" Loki snapped, looking somewhat annoyed.

"You, little brother! The look on you face when she landed upon you. I shall never forget the sight!" He choked out his reply between hearty guffaws. "You looked quite determined, Yevanna. I would not cross you for all the riches of the dwarves."

Yevanna rolled her eyes and decided perhaps it would be best to ignore both of them. Leaving the Asgardians to themselves—Loki had not taken kindly to Thor's mirth—she retrieved her fallen blade, and checked it over for damage; Eld was one of the most precious things she owned, one of the most precious treasures in all Alfheimr. Her father said that it had belonged to his father, Fingole, and the High Kings of Alfheimr before him. She knew too that his first son had been its keeper before her. But he had perished in the Great War and now it was hers, as of her hundredth birthday, when she came of age. The same time she decided her life would be a solitary one.

_She had been standing in the great hall, directing servants with childish excitement in preparation for the party that night; her father had trusted her with organizing everything. Yevanna was looking forward to it mostly because she was now an adult and a woman's first dance was the most important one of her life, second only to her first dance as bride. She knew she wanted to share her first dance with Beowulf, he was her dearest friend in the world and she could think of no one better to share her special moment with. _

_ "Blue and green lanterns, I think! Those are my favorite colors. No, don't move that. Put those flowers around the columns!" She ordered. _

_ Soon, Theoderic, stately and solemn as ever, walked in carrying a large, thin box. Placing it on the recently erected dining table and he motioned the servants to leave. He sat. Yevanna felt excitement well up in her at the sight of her present._

_ "Yevanna, my dear, come here." His mood was strange and not at all as she expected. Her excitement turned to trepidation and she approached slowly. He clasped both her hands in his. "You are an adult now, and one day you will be queen of this kingdom. What I say now is not to frighten you, but to make sure you grow strong. You have walked in the summer sun and been a child of the forest, and, you'll forgive me if I say, you have been happy with that. But now you must put away these childish things and take up the mantle of leadership. You come from a long line of kings and queens who ruled all of Alfheimr and it is time to acknowledge that. _

_ He let go of her hands and pulled the box onto his lap, before opening it. Inside was something thin and long tied in grey velvet cloth. "This is the Sword of Kings, the Sacred Flame, Eld. It is yours now, as it is always for the worthy heir."_

_ The blade itself was rather plain, except for a subtle rippled down its length, like fire. The hilt contained a large sapphire._

"_The worthy heir?" She questioned, wondering if it had belonged to any of her father's sons before her. The sons who were never spoken of except in whispers, the sons who had died before she was born and who she couldn't truly call brothers. The sons whose memory she had to live up to. A look of profound sadness crossed Theoderic's face as if he were sharing her thoughts. _

_ "Yes. You must be worthy: be the wielder of the flame in this darkness. It will not be easy and it will not be free of pain, there is great darkness in this land now." His voice was little more than a whisper, and it seemed his mind was on far off things, though whether they were in the past or the future she could not know. Yevanna thought about all the pain her father had been through: the regicide of his father by his uncle which brought untold sorrow. The subsequent death of his brothers and his sons in battle, not mention numerous friends. The death of his wife in childbirth, the loss of his true throne, the belittling of his kingdom, the utter darkness that poisoned his land and what it meant for all of Alfheimr, especially the women; the list went on and on. He was king because he bore that pain, and that pain was his to bear because he was king. And someday so would she. _

_In that moment Yevanna grew up. _

_To rule was to bear the burden of everything and everyone, she could see that now. To be a ruler who loved another being was to invite unimaginable heartache for both of them. She knew, with sudden clarity, that she could never take anyone into her life the way most would expect her to. To be queen would be her burden to bear and she found herself incapable of imagining putting someone else in her position if she truly loved them. If she wanted to be a strong queen who could lead her people for as long as they needed, she could not risk her life to love. For now love meant only death for the women of the Elvenhome. _

_ She did not share her first dance with Beowulf that night, but her father instead._

That was why she was so cold to Beowulf. And that was why it was so important to rid herself of these strange thoughts and desires concerning Prince Loki. She left the yard without looking back, in dire need of some sleep. Loki could come find her if he wanted to collect his damn kiss.

* * *

Some days later, Yevanna was eating an apple in a tall tree in the gardens. A group of small children were playing tag on the forest floor about fifteen feet below, no doubt having given their nursemaids and caretakers the slip earlier. They hadn't taken notice of her yet, so she watched their game uninterrupted. Their shrill laughter and cries filled the grove with a special kind of light and for a moment Yevanna was sorry she never would have children of her own.

She had been spending most of her days since losing the bet with Loki moving from one hiding place to the other. Not that she was avoiding him; she just needed time to herself to think. Think about what it meant to be queen, about what the pool had shown her, about everything, really. She was quite accomplished at not being found when she didn't want to be, and except for dinner and when she was required at court, she had managed not to see either of the brothers, or anyone really; though she often told Theo where she would be if case of an emergency. It was not as if Loki could approach her in front of everyone and collect on the wager. On top of that, she was more than a little embarrassed that he had been able to beat her in their fight. Though in her defense, he could teleport. She finished her apple and threw the core on the ground; maybe a tree would grow from it someday.

The children chased each other further away from her perch and sound of their laughter faded filling the air with a perfect silence. The warm afternoon light filtered through the ever present leaves casting gold and green pools of warmth on the ground below her. The wind picked up a little, rustling the leaves. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she thought she heard footsteps, but she couldn't see anyone.

"If I did not know better, I would say you are avoiding me."

Yevanna almost fell out of the tree in surprise as Loki materialized out of thin air on the ground right before her. "You should not sneak up on people so!"

"This has nothing to do with our wager, I hope?" He said, ignoring her chastising.

"I simply prefer to be left to myself sometimes." She said, not really answering his question. He looked away for a moment.

"I can understand that." After a pause he looked back at her and held out his hand. "Will you come down from there?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm rather happy where I am, thank you."

He sighed and pulled off the black leather overcoat he was wearing, revealing leather armor of the same color with silver scales on his wrists and chest. He approached the tree.

"What in Asgard's name are you doing?"

"If you will not come down, it seems that I must come up."

She snorted, not believing he would actually climb the tree. But to her surprise he wrapped his hands around the lowest branch and pulled himself up slowly working to where she was perched near the top. He appeared across from her, his dark hair slightly mussed from its usual neat state; a few stands fell into his eyes. He sat down, no different than if he were in a chair at dinner, his long legs dangling below him.

"How did you find me, anyway?" She questioned, suppressing the urge to brush the hair out of his eyes.

"Thor is quite hurt by your avoidant manner, you know." She was almost certain he was exaggerating, if only because his eyes were sparkling with trickery.

"I am sure Thor is fine. How did you find me?" She repeated.

"It is not truly difficult if I put myself in your mindset." He paused. "Also Theo told me your favorite spots."

She rolled her eyes, of course Theo would. "I should have guessed."

"Do not be cross with him; I do believe he's worried about you."

"That's completely ridiculous." She snapped.

"Well, you have been hiding in trees for the last two days."

"I am not _hiding. _And that's not true: I've been in the library, the stables, the kitchens, my room, and trees." She corrected matter-of-factly.

"I know; I searched all of them." He sounded a little cross. She felt a degree of satisfaction that it had not been so easy for him to find her as he led on. She was also pleased that Theo had not right out told Loki where she would be.

"Why did you want to find me so badly?" Yevanna was truly curious for his answer.

"Because, you're the only one who knows anything about fun around here. You've got something of a trickster in you, I think. Under all that propriety and armor." He smirked.

She laughed. "Takes one to recognize one, I suppose."

His smirk softened to a smile. "Something like that, yes. Now about my wager…"

Of course he would climb a tree to bring that up! She moved to shove his shoulder lightly, but he caught her hand in his with a chuckle and held her back. "Has anyone told you that you're rather violent?"

"It's the only mechanism I have for dealing with someone who flirts with me."

"Do you think I'm flirting with you?" He teased making her blush. Really, she wasn't sure if he was genuinely being flirtatious or just friendly; she didn't have much experience with the former except from Beowulf and that hardly counted. Sure, flirtatious comments were common from her male peers, but they weren't to be taken seriously. Loki hadn't let go of her hand yet and was rubbing circles onto her knuckles with his thumb almost absent mindedly. She told herself, to little avail, not to like it.

"Honestly? I have not an idea what you're doing. You are unlike anyone I have ever encountered before." Yevanna was surprised at how truthful she was being.

He tilted his head to the side a regarded her coolly. "Of course not, there are no men like me."

She really did push him with that remark; his hubris really was astounding sometimes. He wobbled a moment on the branch before losing his balance and tumbling backwards. Loki hit the ground with an audible thud and Yevanna waited to hear what sarcastic comment he would have for that.

"You're really not fooling anyone!" She called to him, after a few moments of silence. Surely he was just fooling with her mind. He didn't respond and, she realized with dread, his body wasn't moving.

"Blood and Damnation!" Scrambling down from the tree as quickly as she could, and ran towards his limp form; if she had killed him, she would be in more trouble that she wanted to begin contemplating. Not even her father would be able to get her out of that bind. Kneeling down next to him, Yevanna tried to discern if he was breathing.

"Please don't be dead!"

She felt his neck for a pulse and with relief found one. Absently, she rested her hand against his cheek, trying to think of what to do next. He groaned suddenly and leaned into her hand.

"Yevanna…" He whispered, voice tingled with pain. "I…I need…"

She leaned forward, placing her ear close to his lips to hear him better. Did he need a healer? Water? Something to lean on as he walked?

"I…need…a...kiss."

Yevanna pulled back abruptly; Loki cracked an eye open and grinned at her, laughter dripping from his lips. She smacked him in the chest as hard as she could, eliciting an audible "ooof" from him.

"You complete ass! I thought you were actually injured!"

He sat up rubbing his chest. With one leg bent and the other straight he rested his arm on his knee. "I do believe I actually might be, now. Oh, relax, Yeva. You should have seen the look on your face."

Silence ensued as she tried to calm her temper; he wasn't hurt, so there was no harm done, really. Except to her pride maybe; she hated being scared like that, especially because part of her knew she hadn't just been afraid of the consequences she would face. With that thought she became acutely aware of how close he was to her. His lips, which she'd never really looked at before, were parted slightly and his emerald eyes were full of something she couldn't identify. He moved suddenly, entwining his finger in the hair at the nape of her neck gently, cradling her head in his large hand.

"I believe I shall collect on my wager now." He murmured, leaning closer to her with laughter still in his voice. "No hitting me, darling."

Yevanna remained still as stone, at a complete loss as to what she should do. If she ran she would be going back on a bet, not to mention looking extremely foolish doing so. It would be painfully obvious that her mind was harboring something for him. Still, if she let him kiss her, well, it would make ignoring those irritating feelings a lot more difficult. Before she could decide to stay or go, Loki closed the distance between them. His lips were cool and soft as he pressed them firmly against her mouth. She could taste the sunlight on him; it was delightful in a terrible sort of way. She leaned into him without thinking, savoring the feeling. Moving her lips against his, involuntarily it seemed to the corner of her mind that was still functioning. Abruptly he broke the kiss, though he kept his face close. Pushing some stray hair behind her ear, he smirked.

"That was not as terrible as you expected, was it?"

Without waiting for a reply, Loki disappeared, leaving Yevanna to the pounding of her heart in her ears and a rosy blush across her cheeks.

* * *

**Well, are you hyperventilating? Because I totally was when I wrote that. Yay! Finally! (Seriously, I don't control my characters, they do what they want and I just write it down). Honestly, I feel like Yevanna's jam is "Should I Stay or Should I Go" by The Clash. Or Maybe it's Loki's...haha.**

**A heartfelt thanks to all the people who added this story to their Alerts / Favorite lists. There was a ton this time around! Also, a special thanks to DeathCab4Kimmie for reviewing the last chapter (and, like, every chapter. You rock!). Also, an apology to you for not getting around to what Loki's up to this chapter like I hinted. Maybe next chapter. ;) **

**Questions, concerns, comments? Review or PM :)**


	8. Chapter 8: Sufficiently Weird

**Sorry this is a little late (I usually update on Saturday), but I this chapter is pretty important and I wanted to make sure I was 100% happy with it. Also, the Packers lost their playoff game last night, which meant my friend made me imbibe copious amounts of alcohol in mourning (don't worry, I'm 22). That'll teach me to agree to watch a sports game. Anyway let me know what you think about this chapter. **

* * *

Chapter Eight: Well, This Has Been Sufficiently Weird

Beowulf remained still as stone as he watched Yevanna slowly stand and leave the grove with a dreamy smile on her lips. He wasn't spying on her, really. He had tracked her down to the clearing earlier that day and was about to speak to her but that damnable Liesmith had appeared before he could step from where he was concealed. Every moment he thought would be the one where he stepped from behind the tree, but every moment something made him pause. Then the Asgardian had come tumbling out of the tree and Yeva soon after, straight to his side. If that hadn't been insulting enough, she had allowed him to put his lying mouth on her body. Beowulf could not decide who his murderous rage was for: the Liesmith or the Iron-Maiden. One thing he knew for sure though, he needed to put a stop to this madness.

* * *

Yevanna had just sat down to read in an attempt to remove her mind from what had just taken place when there was a soft knock on the door. She sighed and, marking her place with a strip of cloth, she motioned for her maid to show whoever was at the door in. Much to her surprise, Lady Astrid, one of the few women courtiers of the Western Woods, walked in tentatively. Astrid was young and pretty with long dark blond hair and chocolate brown eyes. Yevanna didn't know her well, but from what she had observed Astrid was quite popular with the younger aristocratic elves, possible due to her flirtatious nature, although she was very intelligent as well.

Yevanna smiled at the other girl and motioned for her to sit at the small table she had just been reading at. "Lady Astrid, how nice to see you. Would you like some refreshments?"

Astrid sat and smoothed her skirts. "Yes please."

Yevanna busied herself pouring them some rose water before sitting down across from her guest. "What can I do for you?"

Astrid looked a little uncomfortable, taking a long drink of water before she spoke. "You know Prince Thor well, do you not?"

The question was rather puzzling and threw Yevanna off guard. She had assumed this had to do with managing Astrid's properties or perhaps goblin raids. "I suppose I know him better than most here, is he troubling you?"

"No, no, not troubling, really." She paused, a smirk coming to her lips. "He is very friendly, and cordial. Rather flirtatious though, and I just think he does not understand the connection we elves place between physical intimacy and marriage. I was wondering if you could talk to him…subtly. I don't want to embarrass him. And the lads have been making fun of him a bit."

Yevanna's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my." That was literally the last thing she had expected. "Well, I suppose I could say something to him."

The other woman smiled. "Thank you, my lady! It's just that he's so sweet but he really has no idea quite what he's suggesting sometimes."

And that was how Yevanna found herself outside the Asgardian princes' chambers, about to have one of the most awkward and, probably, embarrassing conversations of her entire life. She raised her hand and knocked, hoping to the Allfather that neither Thor nor Loki were actually in there. Much to her bad luck, Thor opened the door, beaming at her.

"Lady Yevanna! To what do I owe this pleasure? If you're looking for my brother, I think he's in the library."

Why the Hel would she be looking for Loki? She decided to ignore that and smiled at him. "No, actually, I was hoping I could talk to you."

Thor looked surprised but motioned her into his chambers which comprised of a central pavilion on one level and two smaller pavilions set higher up for sleeping. Her eyes briefly flitted to the higher levels, trying to decide which belonged to which brother. Probably the neater one was Loki's; Thor seemed the messy type and Loki was meticulous.

They sat on a cushioned bench near the fire pit. Yevanna felt like she might vomit from awkwardness; she had never imagined in all her life she would have to explain elvish sexual practices to the God of Thunder.

"So are you enjoying you time here?" She asked, trying desperately to find a normal way of introducing her reason for coming.

"Yes, I like it very much. Your father had Loki and me out hunting the other day."

She smiled. "That is good. Have you made many acquaintances?"

A rather more exuberant smile flitted across his lips at her question. "Yes! There are many find lads here. Avid hunters and drinkers all! I like them very much."

She mentally smacked her forehead; this just couldn't be easy, could it. "And have any ladies of the court caught your eye?"

She felt incredibly rude and intrusive asking and she could tell by the look on his face that he had not been expecting that. "Well, besides yourself, yes…Lady Astrid has been very kind."

"Ah! Yes, Lady Astrid. I spoke with her today, actually." She seized on the connection, hoping to get him to stop looking at her so quizzically. "Thor, not to…ah pry, but have you made any…er advances towards Lady Astrid?"

She could feel the blush spread down her cheeks as she spoke; this was awful! Thor's smile faltered.

"I…I was just joking. I hope she is not insulted." He seemed panicked.

"Oh no! No, no, no. Nothing like that. She thinks you're sweet, actually. It's just, and I know you couldn't have known, but when you say things, ah to that affect, you're sort of…asking for her hand in marriage." She finished lamely.

She didn't think he could look more puzzled if she had presented him with an unsolvable riddle. Yevanna decided she'd gone so far already, there was really not turning back. "Do not worry, Thor, I know, and Astrid knows, that you're just being affectionate. No harm done. But in Alfheimr the act of sexual intercourse is marriage; you're not married unless it happens, and if it happens, well…you're married. So if you say anything to that extent, you're proposing in a sense."

She looked away from him, at the iron gate around the fire pit. She couldn't believe she'd just had the sex talk with Thor; he had to be at least a millennium older than her for Valhalla's sake. And at that moment, the door to the room swung open and Loki strode in seemingly in a good mood. However the smile on his face faltered when he saw Thor looking distressed and confused and Yevanna looking incredibly embarrassed, cheeks ablaze. She decided now was a great time to make her exit. Standing, she tried not to look either of them in the eye as she made her way towards the door.

"Well, this has been sufficiently weird. I will see both of you…later." She made it all the way to the door before Thor called to her. She looked back and both of them were staring at her; Loki had the most peculiar look on his handsome face, especially after Thor spoke.

"Thank you for explaining."

She smiled self-consciously. "Of course. Do not think on it."

* * *

As Yevanna closed the door, Loki turned to his brother. "Please tell me you did not tell her—"

"Relax, brother. Lady Yevanna was simply correcting a social error I had made." Thor sounded angry, so Loki decided to drop it. Anyway, as long as Yevanna hadn't been prematurely informed of anything, he was happy to let Thor be.

* * *

Theoderic sat quietly in his solarium, a pensive mood had fallen upon him though he still had much to do. His body was becoming weary; there were days when he ached, and days when he thought he couldn't possibly make it through without resting for a while. Sometimes he wondered why he of all his family was destined to live to such an old age; he often considered himself the lesser of his father's sons, though now he was the only of his father's sons. He had done as well as he was able, though at night he was plagued with thoughts that it was not adequate. His hope, and the hope of the realm rested in Yevanna, the last, and he thought the best, of his children. Though she had a temper, she was wise beyond her years. It was his hope that he could rule long enough to see her through this war with Jotunheim then relinquish the throne to her and fade away quietly.

That thought brought his mind to the Asgardian princes. Thor and Loki. The thought of them trampling through his kingdom set his teeth on edge at first, but they had been quite well behaved. They had been here a week and he had not heard a bad word of either of them; well, except form Beowulf. But his nephew always had something negative to say. Theoderic had taken note of the fact that Yevanna had been noticeably cool to them after their first night, though he had not asked why. At this age, he had learned long ago to let situations play out as they would. Still, perhaps it was time to set things in motion.

Standing, he opened the door and sent the attendant to fetch his daughter and the princes. He thought about sending for Beowulf, but he decided that would be counter-productive. The young elf took Yevanna's continual rejection of him very hard and this conversation would not be one for his possessive nature to rear its head. Theoderic was quite aware of the boy's unhealthy obsession with his daughter, which, he suspected, Beowulf didn't understand was inappropriate. The fact that his future monarch had made a decision which he refused to respect was troubling, but Theoderic would figure out a way to deal with Beowulf soon enough, if tonight did not work it out for him.

Sitting down he waited for those who he summoned to arrive. He did not have long to wait, with his daughter arriving first, the foreign princes trailing in her wake. Yevanna sat close to him, the aesir across from them. He could tell she was in surly mood by her the fact that she was wearing trousers and was armed. She would not look at the men across from her and he wondered which of them had put her in such a state.

"I believe it is time that we, all together, discussed that which you were tasked with relaying." He said, looking at the princes. They all seemed to be waiting for him to continue, so he did. "The Kingdom of the Western Woods will aid Asgard, via a contingent of warriors lead by our best general."

He motioned to Yevanna, indicating that he meant his daughter. Thor looked slightly dubious.

"Princess Yevanna is your best general?" He questioned, trying, and failing, not to insult the elves in the room.

Yevanna pursed her lips and gave him a look, eliciting a look of admonishment on the God of Thunder's face. "Yes, and anyway, Eld is particularly suited to slaying frost giants."

Thor and Loki looked at her questioningly at her declaration.

"What do you mean?" Thor finally question.

"I forget you have never seen me in battle—"

"I wouldn't quite say that." Loki cut in with a chuckle. She threw him a murderous glance.

"True battle, I mean. Not playing. The blade becomes alight with white flames. I would assume that's rather useful when trying to kill something of ice."

"What type of force will Lady Yevanna be leading?" Thor questioned after a pause to process what she said. Theoderic looked at his daughter.

"That's rather up to your discretion. Any thoughts, my dear?"

She didn't reply right away, instead, a pensive look crossed her face. "I belief archers would be helpful; Jotuns are so much larger than us, it will be useful to have range weapons on the battlefield. I think it best to include melee fighters—swords or axes, I do not care—in a mix of heavy armor and light armor. Those heavily armed may be able to withstand touching the Jotuns, while the lighter armored fighters will be able to dodge them. I suppose I'll just have to wait to see which is more effective. I think, perhaps it would be wise to bring a few healers as well." She looked in Thor and Loki's direction. "No disrespect to Asgardian healers, but perhaps, because we're so used to working with nature, our healers might find a way to protect the warriors from Jotun ice."

The brothers exchanged glances, communicating more, it seemed, that just a look. "That is as best we could hope for."

"Did Fulk give you details on what warriors he is sending?" Yevanna questioned.

Loki nodded. "Yes, I believe Prince Aetius was of a similar mind. He said crossbowmen and mounted cavalry."

Yevanna snorted. "Good luck to him on getting horses through the BiFrost. That sounds like a nightmare."

"So it is settled then? Yevanna you accept this duty?" Theoderic questioned, when she nodded, he continued. "And these terms are acceptable to Asgard?" Thor nodded. Theoderic paused, now came the more delicate aspect of today's negotiations.

Sighing, and stealing himself for Hel to break loose, he continued. "In exchange, we ask for diplomatic…reinforcement." He turned to Yevanna. "Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shores has written that because he brother died in the Citadel within the same week of your quarrel with him, though admittedly the body was not found until after you had left, she wishes a formal inquiry into our house's involvement be launched under the auspices of the other kingdoms."

Yevanna knit her eyebrows together. "That's the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard. I'll tell you exactly what she's trying to do; she trying to use this in order to declare war. She's always wanted the Woods more than her stupid beaches and marshlands."

Theoderic gave his daughter a look in regard to her minor outburst, but continued. "Which is exactly why the support and trust of Asgard would be most helpful in this situation."

Thor nodded. "Of course, Asgard trusts the innocence of all of your house in this matter." Theoderic was pleased with that assertion, reflecting that though Thor seemed rather less intelligent that his brother, he was not stupid and could function very well in sensitive situations when called to.

"Yes, perhaps a more binding and public declaration of support is in order." Loki suggested. At that, Yevanna sat up a little straighter; Theoderic knew she had been wondering about what the House of Odin had in mind for the Western Woods since the meeting at the Citadel.

"What do you have in mind?" The men around the table looked at each other; they had discussed this previously when the princes had first arrived, but not with Yevanna. The moment of truth was upon them. Loki looked at Thor a moment, for once deferring to his older brother willingly.

"Through a royal betrothal?" Thor said nervously, as if questioning his existence.

That gave Yevanna pause, for a moment, before she questioned them more closely. "Do you have some cousin to marry to Beowulf?"

"The Allfather thought it would be better to bind individuals more closely bound to their respective monarchs" Loki spoke delicately, as if he'd guessed what volatile reaction his words would elicit if misspoken.

Silence fell around the table and Theoderic watched his daughter's hand closely to see if she would go for her sword. Suddenly understanding dawned on her lovely face. A look of incredulity, followed by anger, and finally panic passed over her eyes and she stood quickly, as if even been at a table with them was unbearable.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

He sighed. "My Lords of Asgard, may I have a moment alone with my daughter?" Without a word, Thor and Loki stood and, exchanging glances, left the room.

"Yevanna Isolde, you are being very indelicate with an extremely delicate situation." He took her hand in his and tugged her back into her seat; she seemed to be rather dazed.

"Surely there is some other avenue open to us?" He panic in her voice was still evident, but she seemed a little calmer now that the Asgardians had left.

"Yevanna, think on it: if we make a marriage between Beowulf and aesir lady, the alliance is weak; people will wonder why one of Odin's sons did not take you to wife. It will cast doubt on you and this house."

"I care not what people wonder." She said sullenly.

"You will. When you are queen, you will care greatly."

"That is just the thing, father. I do not want to marry and jeopardize my queenship or my people. Do you wish me to die, Father?" She spoke in the softest whisper and in that moment, her fear confirmed his thoughts: he had always suspected that was why she did not wish to wed.

She turned to him, looking as if she were about to cry, though she was trying with all her might to hold back the tears. Her eyes were filled with the sadness of the world and he wished dearly that he could change that, but there was nothing to be done. As Loki said, she had already agreed to it, after all.

"In all the nine realms there is nothing I can do; Melisende wants blood for her brother. She doesn't seem to care that it is highly unlikely that in a palace full of people you were the only person with motive for this crime. This is the only way I can protect you. He will be able to protect you." Theoderic has often fretted about the day he would have to bring pain to Yevanna's life. As king, he was too aware that everyone he loved, though short that list may be, would eventually have to be put second to the needs of the kingdom; an individual, whether ruler or servant, was always subject to the needs of the throne.

"I need no man to _protect_ me." She all but spat the word like it was poison.

He sighed at a loss, sometimes there was no arguing with her. In that respect she was like her mother. Regardless, this betrothal would happen whether she wished it or not; the law gave him the right to give her hand in marriage and they both knew it. He only hoped for her future husband's sake that she warmed up to the idea.

"Do you at least wish to know who it is you will be wedded to?"

"No." She said petulantly, crossing her arms over her body.

"Yevanna…"

She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "Alright. Fine. Allow me to take a guess first: Thor, because he's first born and is going to be king."

Theoderic was mildly surprised at her choice. "The Allfather actually thought it would be a better idea, and I do agree, that you and Prince Loki be joined together. He will be able to devote his attention to this realm and to you instead of being concerned with ruling Asgard as well." He stopped then, waiting to see what she would say, but after a pause continued. "Would you prefer it to be Prince Thor? I suppose it could be arranged, although technically speaking you have already accepted Loki's proposal."

She looked up at him abruptly, confusion clouding her light eyes. "What in Valhalla do you mean? I have accepted no proposal from either…of…them." Her voice trailed off and it seemed as if pieces of a puzzle were clicking to place inside her head. "Son of a bitch!"

"I hardly think Queen Frigga will take kindly to that, Yevanna." He knew she was being figurative, but her complaining had put him in a facetious mood.

She stood and made for the door, no doubt to knock some truth out of the Liesmith. Theoderic let her go; the sooner she worked out all of her rage the better, for everyone. From what he could tell, Loki was actually quite well suited to her.

* * *

Thor and Loki waited in the empty hallway a few meters outside of Theoderic's solarium, anticipating what was transpiring behind those oaken doors. They were standing opposite each other; Thor upright and stiff, Loki was more relaxed with arms crossed loosely over his chest, leaning against the wall.

"She took that better than expected." Loki ventured sardonically, trying to keep his mind away from the other room. Thor chuckled.

"I am surprised that you are in such a joking mood, brother."

"I think Yevanna has not yet realized I tricked her into this." He mused, ignoring Thor. While he was sure her anger would be fearsome to behold, Loki did not regret the way he procured Yevanna's hand; it was the most practical and, if he did say so, entertaining way to ensure she said yes. The consequences would be less that enjoyable, but he would gain so much more and that was the crux of the matter. Besides, it was as the Allfather wished.

The other day when he had happened upon Yevanna and Thor in his chambers, he had thought for sure that his brash brother had ruined the entire plan. Luckily, her visit had just been an attempt to mitigate Thor's culturally insensitive nature. It had also flamed the worries at the back on his mind that the elvish princess preferred golden Thor to him; he tried not to let those thoughts creep in, but sometimes, it was hard not to. Everyone else seemed to prefer Thor.

The oaken doors flew open and Yevanna emerged, braking Loki from his reprieve. She was alight with fire; her eyes burned and her sun-like hair trailed behind her the way light trails behind a shooting star. She had never looked lovelier. Loki stepped into the center of the hallway; he knew it was time to face the consequences of his actions.

* * *

Upon exiting the king's solarium, the first thing Yevanna laid her eyes on was Loki, standing right in her way, arms outstretched, grinning.

"Darling, I trust you had a good talk?"

Not dignifying his words with answer, she pulled her arm back and aimed for his nose. Yevanna's mind was a storm of roiling emotions, particularly rage, and in retrospect was probably not acting as in a manner suited to her station. But sound of flesh hitting flesh and the crunch of bones had felt good. Loki leaned over, clutching the bridge of his nose with his hands; blood was pooling on the floor.

"Fucking Hel, woman!"

"You manipulative bastard!"

He righted himself and waived the blood away as well as realigned his nose with a flick of his wrist, groaning slightly. "I am the God of Mischief and Lies, Yevanna. What did you expect?"

"That doesn't mean you have to be complete and utter ass!" Out of the corner of her eye she could see Thor attempt to slip away; like she was about to allow that to happen. She spun to face him.

"And you! Don't think you're not in trouble either. There is no way in Hel you didn't know all about this!" She poked his chest with each word for emphasis. The laughter in the God of Thunder's eyes diminished as Yevanna's anger turned from his brother to himself. He held up his arms in mock surrender.

"My apologies, Lady Yevanna, but after we discovered your vow never to wed, we could not really think of anything else to do."

"I'm sure you could not!" She snapped, glaring at him wickedly to let him know that she wasn't quite done berating him yet and turned back to Loki allowing Thor to make his getaway. All she really wanted to know if her suspicions were confirmed.

"How did you do?" She demanded.

The anger receded from his face; it seemed Loki was well pleased to be given the chance to explain his mischief. "Do you have the leaf I gave you?"

The leaf. She should have known, especially after her father had outright asked her if she had accepted anything from either brother. Not a little embarrassed that she actually was carrying his gift with her, Yevanna pulled it out of her pocket and tossed it to him. He caught it and held it for a moment between his hands before a golden light shimmered around the leaf. It rose, slowly, off the palm of his hand and spun faster and faster. Then suddenly it stopped, falling to his hand but instead of a leaf he held a golden ring adorned with the large green gem at the center and wreathed with the smaller diamonds around the sides. Loki held it out to her between his thumb and forefinger. She didn't take it, not yet.

"I wasn't lying, really. We do exchange tokens of friendship in Asgard. But this, this is no mere token. When you took it from me, you agreed to be my wife. And then I sealed our bargain with a kiss. You even presented me with a gift in return." He laughed. "You could not have played your part more perfectly if you had known what was taking place."

Yevanna stared at him, completely lost as to what to say. How in Valhalla had she not seen what he was doing? All the flirtatious words and strange looks, it was incredibly obvious once she thought about it. He was the God of Mischief and Lies, just like he said, after all; did he even mean any of what he had said, or was it all in an effort to procure her hand for the alliance? She felt like a fool and for that, it would take a long time for her to forgive him. He seemed to realize that she was not going to speak.

"I had not thought that you would prefer grand gestures, but if it is as you wish…" Loki knelt before her on one knee, still offering the ring. "Princess Yevanna will you do me the honor of consenting to be my bride?"

It was strange to see Loki kneel before her; she got the distinct feeling he wasn't enjoying it and for that her anger was a little placated. Besides, what choice did she have? He had already sealed their fates nearly a month ago, perhaps earlier. She really had no idea how long he had been planning this. Fury still roiled through her body, but it was slowly calming. She needed space to think, it seemed to her, and the easiest way was to make a quick exit.

"I…I consent." It wasn't the most romantic answer, but then again, it wasn't the most romantic of circumstances. When she was younger, and still assuming she would marry, Yevanna had always imagined she would be madly in love with her fiancé; that he would climb the trees to her bower and sweep her off her feet to a secret place and wed her without anyone's knowledge. She had dreamed that their love would be the stuff of songs and that it would set the night sky on fire with passion. What childish sentiments.

Loki gently took her left hand and slipped the ring on to the third finger. He stood and tilted her chin up to face him with cool fingers. At the moment she hated the way her heart beat faster at his touch. Placing a chaste kiss on her lips, he pressed his hard, lean body into her softer one to whisper in her ear.

"You have made me, and with me all of Asgard, well pleased."

* * *

**I'm going to come right out and say it: don't worry too much about Yevanna's reaction. This is listed under "Romance", after all. ;) **

**This chapter was really difficult to write. I didn't want to to be drama on top of drama, but it is pretty dramatic. Anyway, that's why you guys get the whole Thor's sex talk. I was trying to lighten it up. Actually, my basis for sex=marriage for elves comes from J.R.R. Tolkien (of course). He wrote an essay called "Law and Custom of the Eldar" but for the short and sweet version, just google "What J.R.R. Tolkien had to say about elf sex" for a really great site called Ansereg. I'm not following Tolkien 100%, but he is a pretty handy reference / guide for elf culture. Also, ****I sort of wanted to draw out some of the elements of this chapter, but I decided I needed to get on with other stuff. But don't worry, there are more surprises around the corner!**

**A special thanks to Deathcab4Kimmie for her review! I live to get those! And also a thank you to everyone who added this story to their alerts / favorites! **

**Comments, Reviews, PMs? I would really like to know what you think of this chapter. **


	9. Chapter 9: What Would You Do Without Me?

**Deepest apologies for this being the second week in a row that I was late with the update, but both my husband and myself have been dying of plague for the last week (well, not _dying _dying, and it's not technically plague, but it feels like it). Unfortunately, second semester is starting up soon, so I will try my best to stick to the update schedule (every week on Saturday) but I guess only time will tell. **

* * *

Chapter Nine: What Would You Do Without Me?

Yevanna adjusted the bridle on her horse and stroked the creature's nose reassuringly. It was early the morning after…well, after what seemed like her entire world was turned on its head. She was engaged, for Valhalla's sake! And to Loki of Asgard, nonetheless; it was all so surreal. Still, it would not do to linger on something she could not change. Instead, she was leading a company of men on a raid to the north where there was a small band of goblins giving the local population trouble. It was best to address these things quickly before they became a horde like the one she had faced on her way back from the Citadel.

She hadn't seen Loki since he had proposed properly, but she knew she would have to before he and Thor left for the Kingdom of the Eastern Shore as they had to announce her betrothal to the court, after all. From there they would part ways until she and her men joined up with Aetius and his men to venture to Asgard. She was actually a little nervous about going to Asgard as it would be radically different than Alfheimr in many ways, most of which she could not being to imagine. Besides, meeting the Allfather sounded terrifying. The fact that Thor and Loki only spoke of him in the most respectful and distant of terms did not help her trepidation.

Putting her foot in the stirrup, she swung up on to the horse and made the signal to move out. This raid would give her the opportunity to clear her head and luckily for her, Beowulf wasn't accompanying them this time. King Theoderic had explicitly kept him behind, to break the news of Yevanna's betrothal, no doubt. Allfather knew that she certainly didn't want to be the one to tell him. Anyway, Theo would need a sparring partner for the next few days. She and her men galloped through the palace gates and down into the town and Yevanna relaxed herself into the rhythms of the horse's movement and tried to sort out her emotions. She had sworn to herself never to marry for a number of reasons, though chiefly because it seemed cruel to force so much pain and heartache on another being. There were other reasons, which she supposed she would have to explain to Loki eventually, but that was the reason that made her change her mind. By agreeing to be Loki's wife, she felt as if she were being false to herself. Still, she couldn't see a way out of it that wouldn't case massive political damage. So she supposed she was stuck.

She sighed as the wild woodlands flew by her. Well, if there was no getting out of her predicament, the best thing she could do was to try to see the bright side. Really, she was mostly furious about being tricked into the situation. She felt like a fool how she had played into Loki's hands perfectly. She should have expected no less from him however, he was a trickster. But she supposed it could be worse; she could be marrying Beowulf. If that were the case, she'd probably just kill herself, but Loki was different. He was intelligent, witty, more than a little mischievous, and handsome to boot. Perhaps if she just got over herself and if he apologized for tricking her—like that was going to happen—this marriage might not be as horrible as she was imagining. Besides, before she had gotten so overly focused on her emotions, she really had liked spending time with him. If she could just let go of her issues and let herself feel the way she was feeling, things might go back to normal. Whatever normal was. Still, there was something about this whole arrangement that was worrying at the back of her mind that she couldn't give words to, something she couldn't quite place. Surely, though, it would come to her eventually.

* * *

Beowulf watched as Yevanna and her company galloped out of the yard from his pavilion. King Theoderic had explicitly asked him to stay behind in order to discuss an important matter and Beowulf had hardly slept the night before in anticipation of what his uncle wished to speak to him about. It seemed important that Yeva had been sent away. Perhaps Theoderic wished to make Beowulf his heir instead of the princess? No, Beowulf reflected, that would be too much to hope for. But maybe his uncle would finally impress upon Yevanna that fact that she and Beowulf were destined to wed. He knew his uncle had always hoped for their union—the uniting of the two branches of the family was very important after all—but he was always soft for Yevanna's whims. Beowulf paced back and forth in his chambers, wondering how long it would take Yevanna to come around to the idea. He never doubted she would come around to it, eventually, but until she did, they would be in for a rocky time.

A knock came to his door and, thinking it was a page to bring him to the king's solarium, Beowulf wrenched the door open only to find his uncle on the other side. He quickly tried to compose himself, more than a little embarrassed to be caught in so passionate a state of mind.

"Good morning, nephew."

"Good morning, uncle. Please come in."

The king entered and sat down in the plush chair Beowulf usually used for reading. Beowulf seated himself across from his uncle on a small bench. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The older elf frowned, as if choosing his words carefully. "I believe it is time to have a discussion about your future place in the kingdom."

Anticipation flooded his body. So he had been correct in his guess. He waited politely for the king to continue, as he had waited nearly five hundred years for this conversation he felt could afford to be patient for a few more moments.

"I am getting old, Beowulf. I do not like to show it to others, but I'm sure you have noticed. I no long take joy in the world as I used to. I am very weary indeed."

The older elf paused for a moment, and Beowulf reflected on his words. Yes he had noticed that his uncle was looking positively ancient by elvish standards. He was quite certain others had noticed as well, Yevanna least of all. There were rumors in some of the less content factions of court that it was time for the old man to step down and let young blood reign.

"As you know," Theoderic continued. "Yevanna is my heir and will be queen after my abdication of the throne. As her closest relative, I expect you to be an ally and friend she can rely on. Yevanna will have to make decisions that she may have personal distaste for or for which you may have personal distaste, but she must make them for the good of the realm. I expect you to support her in these decisions."

Beowulf nodded in agreement. "Of course, my lord."

"On that note, there are some delicate political situations that I have tried to keep away from most of the court's knowledge. Suffice it to say that it is a threat that I need to prepare Yevanna for thoroughly. As such, though she finds the idea rather distasteful, I have decided to give Yevanna's hand in marriage—"

"Of course, Uncle, you can rest assured that as her husband I will help Yevanna through this and any crisis to the best of my abilities."

The piercing look Theoderic gave him froze the blood in his veins. "You mistake me, Beowulf. Yevanna has, on occasions too numerous to expound, refused to take you as a husband."

"But Uncle you just said—"

"Enough Beowulf. You need to end these unproductive delusions: Yevanna will not have you. However, given the current political climate and circumstances, it has become necessary for her to be wedded, but to one outside of our house with connections and prestige that can be used to our advantage. I held you back so I could tell you in private that when Yevanna returns from her most recent raid, I will announce to the court that she and Prince Loki of Asgard will be wedded."

The bottom had dropped out from underneath Beowulf's world and he could not speak for shock. He had thought that Theoderic would disapprove of his daughter's dalliances with the Liesmith. He was an Asgardian, after all! They were responsible for not stopping the civil war that had raged throughout the realm for a thousand years! Clearly, it would make more sense to force Yevanna to see sensibility and marry him. They had grown up together, he knew the Woods just as well as she. He could be a better king than any aesir, no matter how gifted he was. Beowulf did not know how long he sat, staring into space, locked with his dark thoughts. Eventually he realized Theoderic had left, and he was alone with his emotions. He had to do something. He could not just sit idly by and let Yevanna or the throne slip through his fingers so easily. And he knew he could not abide his lifetime watching that smirking, devious bastard share dear Yeva's throne and bed.

What to do though was the question. Or, rather, who to do it to. For he had killed for Yevanna before and he would do it again.

* * *

Yevanna and her men clattered into the stable yard a day and a half later, exhausted and dirty, but in high spirits. The northern raid had been easy with no significant injuries, although they had found something rather interesting among the goblin corpses. She personally and enjoyed the calm battle brought to her mind. Amidst the hacking of limbs and blood she had come to peace with her current situation. She swung off her horse and pulled her gauntlets off, attempting to wipe the dirt and goblin blood off her face but only succeeded in spreading it around a bit. Not matter, regardless of the blood caked into her hair, she would be expected to report to the great hall immediately. After that she would take a long, hot bath and find Loki. If she had come to one realization over the past few days it was that he was owed an explanation; he needed to know she didn't just mindlessly hate the idea of marrying him and why she had been so opposed to marriage. She looked down at the ring he had given her, glittering in the sun. It felt weird having it on her finger, a visible sign to the entire world that she had acquiesced to wed. She really hoped she didn't run into Beowulf before someone else told him.

Upon entering the great hall, she saw that it was fairly full of courtiers and servants. Perhaps Theoderic had chosen her return to make his announcement. Although that didn't quite make sense because a betrothal announcement was more suited for a banquet rather than a standard day in court. As she approached her father, the chatter in the vast chamber died down. She knelt with her hand over her heart, head down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Asgardians clustered near the throne on the right hand side; Theo and Beowulf were on across from them. In a rather rash decision, she decided not to mention the strange thing her men had found among the goblins. This public setting wasn't right for it, she would wait until she was alone with her father.

"Stand, princess, and make your report to us." The king commanded.

* * *

Loki half paid attention as Yevanna delivered her report to King Theoderic; he wondered what his next encounter with the fiery princess would hold in store for him. They had not parted on the best of terms last time they spoke, though he knew the fault for that was with him. Not that anyone would ever hear him say so.

From across the hall he could feel Beowulf's eyes boring into him. From what he heard, the young elf had taken the news of Yevanna's betrothal to Loki surprising well. He had been almost stoic, although Loki would rather guess catatonic was the better word. Either way, it worried him slightly as Beowulf had never come off as the calm sort. Clearly, from the way he was staring, he wasn't completely fine with the current situation.

Yevanna had finished her report and went to stand by her throne, still as a statue. Theoderic cleared his throat. "This evening we shall make an important announcement and hold a feast in honor of the departure of our Asgardian guests."

The hall buzzed with anticipation and questions. What announcement would Theoderic have to make? None of the court had been told about their arrangement besides Beowulf, and that was just to prevent him from causing a public scene. They all knew about the alliance however, so many probably guessed the king's announcement would have something to do with that. The crowds started to disperse as soon as it was apparent that the king would be conducting no more business until the evening. Loki decided he had better lie low until dinner and avoid any unpleasant interactions with Beowulf. Perhaps Thor would be up for a game of chess. Loki always beat Thor at chess and it put him in the best of moods.

He turned to head out one of the side passages and suddenly Yevanna was in front of him. Covered as she was in blood, gore, and dirt, it was hard to see the princess underneath, but, he realized, this face was who she really was; she seemed completely comfortable in chainmail and dirt. She smiled at him earnestly, her eyes and teeth were blazing bright against her dark visage.

"Loki, I was wondering if you would honor me with a visit to my bower in an hour or so. I believe I owe you an explanation and I wish to set us on better terms than the ones which we last parted from."

"Of course."

She nodded and dashed off, leaving Loki quite curious. If he could say one thing for her, Yevanna certainly was changeable.

An hour later he found himself outside of her chambers, waiting to be admitted by the maid. It was strange that no one could enter these rooms without Yevanna's expressed permission, though he supposed to make sense for anyone other than the closet family. In Asgard it was far more likely that they either share his chambers or her room would connect to his. He stepped on to an airy pavilion of columns and garlands with thin tapestries of fabric strung up in the empty spaces. Yevanna stood in the center of the room, clad in a dark blue dress with silver flowers stitched on to it. Her hair was down and her skin scrubbed ivory white again. She took a step towards him, but stopped as if she were unsure of herself. he noticed that, as with the first night they had met, she was wearing riding boots under her skirts instead of slippers.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Her question caught him off guard for a moment, but he nodded. "Yes…please."

She walked over to an intimate wooden table that was piled high with books and papers and poured him a drink of water from a silver pitcher. She held it out to him, as if she were still unsure if she should approach. He walked towards and took the cup from her hands, careful not to move to quickly or touch her. He could not read her mind at the moment, so caution seemed the safest option. Silence filled the space slowly.

"I believe you wish to speak to me of something?" Loki ventured.

She abruptly turned and started pacing, leaving Loki unsure of what to do. It was apparent she was agitated, but he had never seen her in such a state before.

"Yes, I…I wish to explain my apparent aversion to accepting your marriage proposal. I do not wish for you to think it has aught to do with you, specifically." She glanced at him for a moment. "Although I am not pleased with the way you went about procuring my hand."

He smiled slightly at that, quite certain she'd never let him forget it. He was pleased to see that he had been correct in guessing what Yevanna wished to speak to him about. Even if he couldn't read her emotions easily, clearly he was on the right track. He wondered what had prompted this change in attitude, given her fury the last time they spoke. Regardless, he was glad to see she was coming around to the idea, if only slightly. Forever was a very long time to have an angry wife.

She was still looking at him, brows knit, as if wondering how best to go about saying what she wished to say. She sighed heavily.

"I suppose it would be easier if I simply stated that which I was thinking instead of speaking in riddles," she paused, and looked out into the night. "I decided a long time ago that I would never marry, not because I don't want love or companionship, but because I didn't want to put the burden of the throne on someone I cared about. All it brings is loss and pain. I thought it would irresponsible for me to put another person in the position fate had dealt me."

Sensing that she was not finished, he waited for her to continue. Loki would have liked to tell her not to worry about him being too weak to take on the burdens of kingship, but now did not seem to be the most appropriate time. If he had learned anything in the past few weeks of knowing Yevanna, it was that the right timing was the difference between her smile and a punch in the face.

She sat down rather ungracefully on the steps between the pavilions and leaned her head back, looking at the stars. He sat next to her, careful still to makes sure their bodies didn't touch.

"I suppose that doesn't really matter now." She mused. "Besides, that reason…that's just the reason I tell myself so I don't have to think about what truly frightens me. What I mean to say is, it's what changed my mind about marriage, but it's not what keeps me up at night about it."

"What do you mean?" She had piqued his interest with that. What about marriage could be so frightening? Even better though, she was beginning to trust him, it seemed.

She laughed slightly.

"Truly, you will think me naught but a foolish girl if I tell you."'

"Try me." He kept his voice calm and low, hoping to relax her worries.

She shifted her body to face him and searched his face with her quicksilver eyes for a moment.

"Let me ask you something. How many wedded evlish ladies do you remember meeting here?"

Loki was again surprised by the direction Yevanna's mind took, but paused to think on the question she posed him. He could not fathom where this was going.

"Well, there is Queen Sybilla of the Central Plains and perhaps a few others. Why?"

"Yes, there are a few, but most of them are dead" giving no explanation, she continued speaking. "I'm sure you've heard no end of talk about the Great War that engulfed Alfheimr some centuries ago? It started because the High King, my grandfather, was murdered by his jealous younger brother. This set off a chain reaction of evil which I am sure we still cannot see the end of. However, one of the consequences was that our ability to utilized magic was stunted because we weren't in harmony with the realm anymore. Magic, specifically healing magic is crucial to an elf woman's life especially during childbirth, without it, it's almost certain that we'll die."

* * *

Yevanna held her breath after she finished speaking, waiting to hear Loki laugh at her fear. She had never admitted that to anyone in her entire life, although she had come close when she and her father had argued most recently. The only reason she was telling Loki was because she was quite sure he was unaware of this downside to marrying her. Anyway, besides maintaining the alliance, producing an heir was probably the most important goal of their arranged marriage. He deserved to know that it would in all likelihood kill her. That was the dark secret that all of society tried to ignore, pretend like it didn't exist. But Yevanna had been there when Theo's mother had given birth and died. It had been horrific. It took a full year for an elf to give birth and their bodies simply couldn't handle the trauma of it without the soothing balm of magic.

Summoning the courage to look at him, Yevanna peered into Loki's emerald eyes. Instead of laughter or mischief she was met with a soft, concerned looked. Slowly, as if he was afraid to startle her, he reached forward and caressed her cheek.

"Yevanna, trust me when I say you do not have to worry about that. I am the most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms. I would be a poor husband indeed if I did not use my power to keep you safe."

She smiled at his words, although a small part of her mind didn't much like the idea of her needing anyone to stay safe. Loki would claim to be the best sorcerer in the nine realms, although in this case he was probably being more truthful than she wanted to give him credit for. Still, she was more cognizant of the fact that he was having that warmth in the pit of her stomach effect on her again. He was so close to her, she wasn't sure if she would ever get used to that, although perhaps she minded it less than before, if only by a little.

"We should go down the banquet." She whispered distracted by the feeling of his fingers slowly running up and down her neck and shoulder.

"Yes. We should." He was leaning close to her and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He pressed his lips to hers and her brain simply shut down. She could think of nothing but the feeling of his mouth on hers, his fingers on her skin.

There was a quite knock on her door. "My lady—oh!"

Yevanna pulled away from Loki and stood up to see what her maid needed, but the girl had already closed the door and was gone. She turned back to Loki.

"Just because we are to be wed does not mean you may kiss me whenever you like." She said disapprovingly, though it was really more for show. She was embarrassed that they had been caught.

His smile widened, reaching his eyes. He looked a little bit like a wolf when he smiled like that; it sent that feeling to her stomach again.

"Of course it does. Besides, I like the way you can't seem to function when I get that close to you."

She rolled her eyes and headed down to the banquet but not before she saw him wink at her from the corner of eye.

Yevanna sat at her father's right hand side, with Loki next to her. Thor and Beowulf were on the King's other side. The great hall had been set up for a banquet with a long table across the dais and two tables extending down through the room, leaving the center of the hall open; later it would be used for dancing. The first course of dinner had just been served but all the courtiers were waiting for the king to take the first bite, really though, Theoderic was waiting for the chatter in the hall to settle so he could make his announcement. Yevanna shifted slightly and drummed her fingers on the table impatiently; she hadn't eaten anything substantial since she left the palace a few days ago, after all.

The king stood and a hush fell over the crowd. "My lords and ladies, I have called us together tonight not only to celebrate the mighty guests that we have played host to these past weeks but to also make an announcement," the anticipation of the court was clouding the air as he continued. "I am pleased to announce, that in conjunction with our new treaty with Asgard, my heir and your future queen, Princess Yevanna will be joined forever to Prince Loki in marriage."

The room erupted in cheers and applause, taking Yevanna slightly off guard. She had no idea the people wanted her to wed so badly, either that or Loki was just supremely popular. She smiled and stood, raising her goblet to the sky. Next to her, Loki stood as well, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"May the gods and spirits of the earth and heavens bless my choice," She intoned.

Taking a drink of the wine, she then passed the goblet to Loki. He took it from her and drunk deeply before pouring the remaining liquid on the ground as an offering to any spirits who may have been watching. It was a silly ritual, but important to betrothal customs. Loki smiled at her as they sat down to eat amid the cheering of her people. _Perhaps everything will be alright._

The meal passed in the blur of good food and feelings, ending only when Theoderic clapped his hands indicating that music and dancing should begin. Loki led her down to the dance floor, ready to take part in the second step of the betrothal ritual. Their dance was to signify that they were now partners in life and had to learn each other's rhythms in order to work well. She faced the other women in a large circle, her back to her partner. His left hand rested on her hip, his other held their arms away from their bodies. He leaned forward, to whisper in her ear as the first strains of melody filled the cavernous room.

"This is the same as our first dance, is it not?"

"It is," she breathed her reply, swept up in the steps of the dance.

It was strange, as they wove their way through the sea of dancers—one small part on a more intricate pattern—Yevanna felt as if she and Loki were the only people on the dance floor, the only people in the entire hall. All she could think of was the feeling of his hands resting lightly on her body and the way his eyes glittered with mischief when she faced him. As the final notes of the song rung out across the cavernous hall, he lifted her up and spun them in slow circle before setting her down gently. Bowing, he kissed her hand.

"I shall leave you to the good graces and wishes of your people. If you would like another dance, darling, I am at your beck and call," he wink and disappeared into the sea of people, leaving her, like he said, to a crowd of cooing court ladies.

The night passed rapidly. She was either surrounded by a cluster of courtiers dying to know what made her change her mind, when the wedding would be, etc, etc. or being led on the dance floor, mostly by Loki but also with Thor, Theo and her father. Loki, for his part, spent most of the night in conversation with his brother and newly interested male courtiers. Yevanna was standing off to the side of the hall, next to an open portal to the gardens beyond. She was attempting to cool down and simultaneously watch the activity in the room without being interrupted. Something was eating at the back of her mind.

A disturbance at the center of the hall caught her attention; Beowulf stood before the high table and it appeared that he was shouting, though it was difficult to hear over the din of the party. It seemed not everyone realized what was going on. Yevanna started for him, but stopped abruptly when Beowulf slammed his gauntlet on the floor at Loki's feet. Everyone in the room was paying attention now, waiting to see what the aesir would do with the challenge.

Loki stared down at the gauntlet as if it were not more than pebble in his shoe. Standing, he slowly walked around the high table and in a fluid motion picked up the offending glove. He handed it back to Beowulf.

"If you plan on making a scene, stop and reconsider," he hissed.

His voice made the hair on the back of Yevanna's neck stand up and reminded her how dangerous he could be. The way he had switched moods so quickly—one minute laughing with Thor and Theo, the next deadly serious—made her wonder which was his true mood. Just how skilled was he at hiding his emotions? She forced herself to focus on the current situation, that mode of thinking would only lead her down a dark hole of uncertainty that was not conducive to diffusing the problem right before her. She'd have plenty of time to think about what was bothering her after Beowulf was dealt with.

"Fight me, you coward!" Beowulf roared.

Loki narrowed his eyes at the elf, but kept the cold smile on his face. "Lord Beowulf, it seems you have had too much wine. Drink off your night and I may entertain your request."

Yevanna slowly edged closer. Knowing how Beowulf usually was in this state it wasn't likely he would back down, no matter how intimidating Loki was. This was just a fantastic way to end the evening. She sighed, what was it with men needing to prove that they were manlier than every other man in the room? Luckily, it seemed Loki wasn't interested in besting a clearly intoxicated and therefore disadvantaged adversary.

"You're not worthy to sit on our throne if you won't face me now," Beowulf bellowed.

She reached the edge of the crowd of people surrounding the two men. Loki had turned away from the drunk elf, it seemed fully intending to go back to his seat and ignore him.

"Beowulf, stop, please," she called to him.

He turned to her with a glassy, faraway look in his eyes. "But Yeva, I'm doing this for you. Everything is for you: this, Lord Ibelin, everything."

"What?!" She called, but he had already turned away from her.

Beowulf pulled a long dagger out from the sleeve of his tunic; the crowd gasped, but everyone seemed rooted to their spots, unable or unwilling to move. With panic Yevanna realized Loki would not see it in time. Grabbing the nearest thing she should reach—a silver serving platter—Yevanna swung it as hard as she could at Beowulf's head. Alerted by the crowd, or maybe the ding of the platter making contact with Beowulf's skull, Loki spun around. His emerald eyes met her light blue ones as her cousin crumpled to the ground between them. For the briefest moment she thought she saw fear reflected in them, but it was quickly replaced with gratitude, if it had ever been there.

She smiled at him and dropped the now dented platter. "What would you do without me?"

* * *

**So, exciting yes? I don't have too much to say down here today, except if there are a weird number of errors in this chapters it's because my brain is still fuzzy from all the cold meds. I've been taking. Seriously, I feel like my head is in a cloud, which makes proof-reading really difficult. But I also feel super guilty about how late this is. So once I feel better I'll go over this baby one more time and see if I missed anything. **

**Thank you to Deathcab4Kimmie, Furionknight, and NewMexicoeWine for your lovely reviews! They mean the world to me. Also a further thanks to everyone who added this story to their favorites / alerts lists! You guys make me so happy! **

**Comments, questions, concerns? Feel free to review or PM me! :) **


	10. Chapter 10: Ten Gallons Full of Crazy

**Yay! This one is on time! I told you I wouldn't let you guys down. :) **

* * *

Chapter Ten: Ten Gallons Full of Crazy in a Five Gallon Bucket

Yevanna regarded her cousin sitting quietly, head down and hands tied behind his back. After his apparent psychotic episode at the banquet, her father had thought it best to restrain the elf and currently they were in one of the upper cells of the usually empty dungeons. Yevanna didn't much like to think about what went on in these dark chambers, but her father hadn't needed to use them since the last vestiges of the civil war, well before her time. Usually if people needed to be punished it was dealt with publicly whether it be through duel, fine, or a stint in the stocks.

She circled him slowly, taking note that he was developing a large bump on his head where she had hit him. Across from her, her father, Thor, Loki and Theo stood, watching quietly, waiting for their prisoner to wake up. After she had knocked him out, the guards had quickly hauled him away to the palace dungeons and Theoderic had spends a few minutes reassuring the rest of the court that everything was okay. Yevanna had quietly stood next to Loki until her father had motioned them to follow him to the dungeons.

"What did he say to you, Yeva?" Theo asked quietly.

"He said 'everything is for you: this, Lord Ibelin, everything.' If he killed Lord Ibelin because of me…that doesn't make any sense. I mean, I quarreled with the man, but that doesn't mean I wanted him dead. What kind of person would come to that sort of conclusion?"

No one answered her question, but all eyes turned to Beowulf as he groaned a little and sat up. The king stepped forward.

"Beowulf, can you hear me?"

Another groan and Yevanna circled around to stand between Theo and Loki. Slowly, Beowulf raised his head and his soft chuckles filled the room. "I see Yevanna must have snuck up on me. She's the only one who can stop a man dead in his tracks like that."

"I hit you with a silver serving platter."

"And that would explain my pounding headache." He joked weakly.

Theoderic cleared his throat. "Beowulf, what were you thinking?"

He looked at his uncle and grinned. "I was thinking, dear uncle, that if I could just kill the Liesmith, Yevanna and throne would be mine."

Her father paused a moment, letting Beowulf's words settle and everyone in the room seemed a little surprised at Beowulf's frankness. When he spoke it was as if to a small child. "Have you ever considered, nephew, that that line of thinking is rather unsound? As we have discussed earlier, Yevanna does not want to wed you and I doubt killing her future husband will change her mind for the better."

"Why not? I am perfect for her in every way," Beowulf raised his head, and looked straight at her. "Yeva, surely you know that? I am your other half in life. Where you are lacking—in, in judgment, and sense—I make up for it."

She just stared at him for a moment, afraid any response would provoke him, but finally she could take his words no longer. "Do you really think insulting my judgment and intelligence is going to endear you to me?"

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. I know deep under all that anger and hard exterior you ache for me."

"Do not presume to speak of me that way!"

She slapped him, hard, snapping his head to the side and raised her hand to hit him on the other cheek, only Loki's cool hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Yevanna, it's not helping."

Loki was right, Beowulf seemed to enjoy her strikes; he was smiling for Valhalla's sake.

"There's my Iron-Maiden." His voice made her skin crawl.

Theoderic continued his questioning, with each answer more surreal than the next. Yevanna could not believe some of the vile, treacherous things her cousin was saying: his blindness to the way his actions affected the kingdom and the people around him. She had always known that he was a bit jealous of her, a bit covetous, but tonight it seemed that he was truly insane. The only small comfort she could glean out of the situation was that he seemed to be just as lustful for the throne as he was for her, as if she was just the most convenient way to power. It made her feel slightly less responsible for his current state, because she did feel responsible. Maybe, just maybe if she had been kinder to him, and not shut him out completely all those years ago, he would be a better man today.

"Now, Beowulf, you said something to Lady Yevanna about Lord Ibelin. What was it?"

"What, that fool? Why would you want to know about him?"

"Did you have anything to do with his death?" Theoderic ask, his tone was stern, but he spoke calmly in order not to alarm the clearly unstable man in front of him.

Beowulf chuckled again. "Death, death, death. All anyone wants to hear about is that fool's death. What about his filthy life? What about what he was doing before he died? His scheming and provocation of you, my dear. I merely talked some sense into him, smoothed things over. Made him understand you, and made him sorry that he ever insulted you in front of the council! And do you know what? He thanked me for released at the end. And you should thank me too, do you know he insinuated that you would rather share him with Melisende than wed me? DID YOU? I should have known to cut the head off of the serpent, but regardless, you should thank me, Yeva, for ending that miserable man before he could get his claws into you."

It was all too much, and she lost control with that last remark.

"Thank you!?" Yevanna practically shrieked. "It is your actions that lead to me having to marry, you stupid fool! You brought this on yourself!"

She hit him, again and again letting all her frustration with him from the past out on his conveniently tied up body. All the snide remarks, suggestive and controlling behaviors, every time he had made her feel uncomfortable, or embarrassed her, she let it all out on him. And all he did was laugh at her, as if he wanted her to keep hitting him. She knew her father was saying something to her, yelling probably, but she couldn't hear him over sound of her fist repeatedly hitting Beowulf. She felt strong arms lock around her waist and suddenly she was yanked backwards. There was a disorienting, vomit inducing, sucking feeling and suddenly she was back in her bower. Loki released her from his arms and she stumbled forward a little, before righting herself and turning to face him.

"What the Hel did you just do?" She asked, her voice about an octave higher than usual.

"I teleported us back to your chambers. You were going to kill him if you didn't stop." He spoke softly in a matter of fact tone and she couldn't read his emotions.

"So what if I did? This is all his doing! If it weren't for his insanity, I wouldn't be in this mess with the Eastern Shore and I wouldn't have to marry you." As often with words spoken in anger, she regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but even more so when she saw the expression drop from his face.

"If that is the way you truly feel, I won't bother you any more tonight." His face was calm, but blank; the sort of face he would present to someone who wasn't worthy of knowing how he felt.

He turned to leave, but she reached out, touching his arm. "Wait. Loki, please. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

He looked down at her pale fingers gripping his arm, then up at her. His emerald eyes were full of ice. The look was enough to make her let go of him. "Pray tell how you meant it then."

"I…look, this isn't easy for me. I have spent my entire life thinking I would live one way, only to have you show up and turn my world upside down in a matter of a few short months. I'm trying to accept that, but I don't cope well with change! I don't even know if you like me. For all I know you are using that silver tongue of yours to make me think you like me because your father told you to make me marry you. And to top it off, I find out my cousin, the boy I grew up with and thought I loved for the first hundred years of my life, turns out to be ten gallons full of crazy in a five gallon bucket? My deepest apologies if I hurt your vanity, but I am under quite a lot of stress at this moment."

She paused, letting her outburst sink into the night air, not sure if she clarified or just made the entire situation worse. All she could do was wait to see his response. Instead of witty retort, more shouting, or Allfather, anything expected, Loki burst out laughing. "_Ten gallons full of crazy in a five gallon bucket_? Ehehehe. By Valhalla, Yevanna, you do have a way with words."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stamped her foot in irritation. "Stop laughing at me!"

"Did you just stamp your foot at me?" His voice still dripped with amusement.

His emotions were changing so rapidly it was making Yevanna dizzy. She sniffled a little, slightly embarrassed that she had done something so childish in the heat of the moment.

"No," She murmured petulantly. "And stop laughing, my emotional distress isn't funny!"

He dutifully stopped laughing and put a mock serious look on his face. Touching his hand to his heart, he smiled at her. "Forgive me, I should not laugh at you."

She sighed. "Of course. Please, also forgive me my rash words. I do not mean to imply that I don't like you, or…or anything."

His smiled widened. "So you do like me."

She poked his chest lightly. "Stop playing mind games with me, Loki Odinson, I do not like it."

He chuckled. "Just admit it. It will make you feel better, I promise."

She could almost hear the mischief in his voice. "Alright, fine. You make me want to kill you sometimes, but yes, I like you. But I don't know if you like me, and that makes me feel…vulnerable. I do not like that either."

She felt stupid again, talking about whether or not he _liked_ her. What was she? Some lovesick mortal girl moon-maddened by the first immortal she ran across? But it was really bothering her. The way he could change his emotions and moods at the drop of a hat made her question how genuine he was around her. It was a real possibility that the God of Lies was making her feel something for him because his father told him to. By Valhalla, he had tricked her into accepting a marriage proposal! It wasn't as if he had demonstrated his trustworthiness in terms of relationships lately.

Loki took a step towards her and captured her face gently between his large hands. There was a soft look in his eyes as he spoke, carefully emphasizing each word. "Yevanna, of course I like you. You are the most infuriating, impassioned, interesting, _intelligent_ woman I have ever met. And you're very beautiful. I would be as a fool not to like you."

He kissed her forehead before releasing her. "Now go to bed, you look exhausted."

"Yes well, saving your life tonight took a lot out of me," she quipped.

He just smiled and disappeared in a blind of the eye. Yevanna sighed and took off her long dress, noticing the bottom hem of filthy from being in the dungeons. If she had any girly inclinations she would care, but mostly she just felt bad for whatever servant would have to clean it. Lying in bed, she willed herself to relax. There was always tomorrow for dealing with Beowulf, and Loki, and Melisende…and the Frost Giants. By the Allfather's golden eye-patch her list of troubles certainly was growing. As she drifted into sleep, her sleep-addled brain kept bringing her pictures of Loki's mischievous, emerald eyes glittering at her and that wolf like grin. She didn't mind.

* * *

Hours later, after a long conversation with King Theoderic, Loki and Thor stumbled into their chambers in hopes of catching a few hours of sleep before they were off again. Loki sighed as he peeled off his green tunic and the black silk undershirt. Tonight had certainly proven interesting, to say the least. It seemed quite the day for having serious conversations with Yevanna, for one, and of course there was that awkward episode with Beowulf. He had assumed the elf would just drunkenly stumble off once he had refused him the challenge. If it hadn't been for Yevanna, Loki might not be alive right now. That thought sobered him more than anything, because really, if his life hadn't been on the line, the image of short fiery Yevanna knocking her hulking drunk cousin out cold with a serving tray would have made him laugh hysterically.

The way she had reacted to Beowulf's mentally unstable words was a little troubling. Her anger at him for causing her to have to marry…well, Loki wasn't sure how to feel about that. One the one hand, he could empathize with her frustration. He had turned her world upside down, just as she said, but as the person she was supposed to be marrying, it hurt. Only a little bit—he only let it get to him a little bit—but it still got under his skin. He longed to tell her how she had come to be chosen for him, but it was not the time for that. She had certainly caught him off guard with that question about liking her, and he had almost explained everything. Instead he had been as honest as possible; his response hadn't been premeditated, he simply spoke what he was feeling at the moment. It seemed to have been enough to put her mind at ease, for the moment anyway. It seemed Yevanna was likely to have anxiety or panic attacks about their relationship every so often. Honestly, he didn't blame her, by Valhalla, marriage was likely to kill her after all. Well, if she wasn't marrying him, it would be likely to kill her. He was confident in his magical ability to be able to perform the necessary healing magic should she bare him a child, which was highly likely considering the explanation she had given Thor earlier that week about elves and sexual practices.

Tearing his mind away from that particular train of thought, Loki eased himself into bed, letting the soft linens envelope his body. His mind was exhausted from all the ideas and emotions racing through it. He needed sleep; he could deal with the complications that Beowulf brought tomorrow. Practically speaking, given Beowulf's state of mind, and his insistence that he had murdered Lord Ibelin for Yevanna, she was still in danger of Melisedne's wrath. It wasn't probable that Beowulf would clarify that he acted on his own. In fact, Loki wouldn't be surprised if the elf's delusional mind thought Yevanna had wanted him to do the deed. He knew when he and Thor reached the Eastern Shore, the topic would come up and he would need every trick and skill his silver tongue could muster to keep Yevanna out of the line of fire, and he would, because it was his duty now. And maybe, just maybe, because of something else. His mind sputtered with half formed thoughts and raw emotions as he tumbled into sleep; the only clear image to him was of Yevanna's lovely light eyes and how they had glimmered in the moonlight.

* * *

Yevanna pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders in the cold pre-dawn air. Though Thor and Loki had officially said their goodbyes last night, she still wanted to see them off properly. She stood opposite them in the courtyard and smiled slightly. Thor looked exhausted as she felt; no doubt he had been up late the night before talking with Theoderic about how best to handle the situation with Beowulf to Melisende. She wondered if Loki had gone back to the dungeons after he had left her chambers, but she would have to save her curiosity for later. She listened half-heartedly as her father wished the princes a fair journey.

"Know that you will always be welcome in my hall."

The brothers thanked the king for his hospitality, all of them thinking that their next destination would not so welcoming. Yevanna half wished she could go with them, but that would be dangerous given the current situation. Anyway, she had a lot of preparation to do before she could leave for Asgard.

The king took his leave and Yevanna smiled at the brothers. She inclined her head in Thor's direction. "Fair thee well, Prince Thor. I truly enjoyed making your acquaintance over these weeks and I look forward to meeting you again in Asgard."

Thor smiled and kissed the back of her hand, as usual tickling her skin with his whiskers.

"I look forward to seeing you in Asgard soon. I shall have to take you up on that drinking challenge you issued to me earlier."

That caused Yevanna to laugh. "I don't know about that, I'm sure you'd have me under the table before you felt anything."

Thor nodded amiably with a small chuckle and wandered off towards his horse, leaving her alone with Loki. She smiled up at him, at a loss of how to begin saying goodbye and still feeling sheepish about her behavior from the night before.

"You probably shouldn't let Thor talk you into a drinking contest. He takes them very seriously and his tolerance is truly breathtaking," Loki joked.

"Yes, I wasn't really planning on it. I know my own limitations." An awkward pause. "Oh, I have something for you."

She dug around in the folds of her cloak for a moment, before pulling out a thin, curved piece of golden armor that had some writing engraved on it. "I noticed that the armor you wear on your chest is missing a decorative piece, so I had this made for you. Don't worry, it's not like I'm trying to trick you into marrying me or anything, it's completely safe to take."

Loki chuckled and took it from her. "Now who would do something like that?"

"An untrustworthy, unsavory cad, I suppose," She teased him lightly.

He gave her a look of mock-hurt but smiled after a moment.

"In all seriousness, though, thank you. I broke the last piece adventuring with Thor a while ago and never got around to replacing it." He paused a moment, running his fingers over the writing. "What does this say?"

For some reason she blushed. "It is the motto of my company. _Amin khiluva lle a' gurtha ar' thar. _In the old language it means: 'I will follow you to death and beyond.' A little sentimental, perhaps, but it was my mother's personal motto, so I adopted it."

"And was your mother a fierce warrior like you?"

Yevanna laughed. "No, she was a proper lady; she embroidered tapestries and everything from what I hear."

It was strange, she rarely talked about her mother, Queen Isolde, but she found that she did not mind doing so with Loki. They drifted over to his horse as he affixed the golden plate to the front of his armor. She absently stroked the animal's neck as he swung up into the saddle. Loki smiled down at her, his emerald eyes brimming with mirth; leaning down, over the horse's body, he tilted her chin up with a gentle hand.

"I will see you again soon, in Asgard, but until then, try not to get into too much trouble, darling."

She wrinkled her nose at him and opened her mouth to protest. Not waiting to hear what she had to say in her own defense, he pressed his lips to hers, taking her a bit by surprise. After her initial shock, however, she surrendered herself to the feeling, taking in his strange but pleasant scent. She was beginning to get used to his surprisingly timed kisses. He pulled away from her slowly, a faint smirk on his lips.

"Goodbye, Loki," she whispered.

* * *

Yevanna stood next to Theo as they watched the Asgardian party gallop away from them, becoming progressively smaller black dots on the horizon with each second.

"Soon enough I will be watching your gallop off into the sun on your own adventures," Theo mused rather morosely.

"What on Alfheimr do you mean?" She questioned good naturedly.

"Well, you'll be going to Asgard soon to fight the Jotuns."

"Theo, you are coming with me, are you not?"

He looked genuinely surprised by her assumption. "I did not think you would find a one-armed knight useful to you."

"Don't be ridiculous, Theo. You are improving every day. Besides, there are not many I trust as well as I trust you. Do not think yourself so easily replaceable." She smiled at him. "Now come on, we're due in the practice yard. I'm still waiting for you to get more hits on me than I on you."

* * *

Loki frowned and shifted restlessly in the saddle. They had been on the road for nearly a week and he thoroughly disliked every minute of it. Thor's incessant chatter wasn't helping either. As they traveled the landscape became progressively less woodsy and more of rolling pastures, though now that was giving way to marshy areas. They must be close to their destination; Yevanna had mentioned that Melisende ruled over both beaches and marshes, after all.

They reached the crest of a hill and paused, taking in the sight before them. Over a wide tract of marshland, a wide expanse of beach that curved into a natural harbor shielded by cliffs greeted them. Dwellings were carved into the cliff face, but in the middle of the harbor, jutting out from the water was an elegant castle created out of what seemed to be sand. Elves certainly seemed to be a lot more attuned to their natural surroundings than the aesir were, Loki would concede them that. In the distance a riding party was coming out to greet them.

By the time that they had rode across the long sandstone bridge to the inner keep, it was nearly nightfall. Currently they were being led down a brightly torchlight hallway on the way to Melisende's reception hall. Rounding a corner the page opened a pale wooden door and ushered the Asgardians in. Melisende sat on a large beach wood throne at the opposite end of the large, airy hall. The hall, like the rest of the castle, was fashioned out of hard packed and probably magically reinforced sand. The long, slender columns supporting the roof were draped with soft yards of silk, some black some light blue. Loki assumed the black was in mourning for Lord Ibelin. Melisende was also clothed in a black dress and her inky locks were carefully bound behind her head. Loki couldn't help recall what Beowulf had insinuated about the Eastern Shore's ruler and her brother and wondered if there was any truth to it; it would certainly explain some of the madness to her grief. Although siblings could be close, so there was no reason to assume a sexual element to their relationship.

"Greetings, Odinsons! I hope your journey was a pleasant one." Melisende intoned from her throne.

Though her greeting kind, there was no warmth in her voice. Thor and Loki approached the throne slowly, bowing to show respect.

"Princess Melisende, the Allfather sends his greetings," Thor answered her.

She stood and motioned for them to follow her through a nearby doorway. "Come, it will be better to conduct business in private."

* * *

Yevanna kept busy over the next month, preoccupied with selecting and organizing her troops and provisions for the journey to the Central Plains and then Asgard. She wasn't entirely sure how the logistics of transporting her army from one realm to the other would work, but she trusted the Allfather had it figured out, or he would not have asked for their aid. She had had no word from Loki besides a short message sent to her father from Thor that the Asgardian princes had returned to their own realm. She would never admit it, but she was slightly disappointed to not have heard from him again. There was no indication of how well the negotiations with Melisende had gone or whether she would be sending troops. There had been no word from the Eastern Shore regarding Lord Ibelin's death or the investigation Melisende had previously requested, but there was no way to know if this was due to Thor and Loki's negotiations or just waiting on Melisende's part. She supposed she would find out when she reached the Citadel. She would leave tomorrow morning at dawn, thankfully, so she wouldn't have to wait too long to find out. Theo was already sleeping, but Yevanna couldn't will herself to slumber. She was far too excited and anticipation coiled in her stomach leaving her limbs feeling raw and strung out. She couldn't tell if it was anticipation for her first being adventure, as Theo had put it earlier, or something else.

At the moment she was considering which gifts to bring the Allfather and Queen Frigga. Diplomatically it was a nice gesture, but as their future daughter-in-law, she felt extra pressure to select something worthy for each of them. Her father had given her leave to take whatever she deemed necessary, though she was fairly certain she'd have to defend 'necessary' if it came down to some of the more important or powerful relics. The treasure vault was eerily quiet as Yevanna had sent the guards to mind the outside passage when she entered. Her mind was further set at ill ease as the dungeons were nearby. Beowulf still remained chained up and it seemed that for the time being he would stay there. It seemed Theoderic was wary to send his nephew, deranged though he be, to Melisende for punishment; if he could, he would punish the elf himself. She had not questioned her father too closely on the matter, because truly she did not want to know. She'd had enough of her cousin's madness for the time being.

The soft click of the door opening alerted her to her father's presence, for it was unlikely that anyone else would be admitted to the treasure vault. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.

"Good evening, father."

"I see you couldn't sleep? You will regret it in the morning, I think," he said not unkindly.

"I'm trying to decide what gifts to bring with me. Father…" She paused, unsure of how to continue.

"Yes, dear?"

"Will you be fine while I'm gone? I don't mean to imply anything, it's just with Beowulf's betrayal and…"

He held up a hand to silence her, a soft smile still on his face. "I will be fine, Yevanna. I have governed for many millennia, I can do so for a few more years, I should think. Although when you do return, I believe it would be a good time to have a conversation about the necessary steps for my abdication and you coronation. I find myself weary of the throne, you see."

"Yes, I…I have noticed."

They stood together for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. "Yevanna, is something else troubling you?"

She paused, feeling as if she were a small child again, caught in the act of doing something she oughtn't. "It's just, sometimes I feel so unprepared for everything: ruling, marriage, this war. Sometimes I wish I could just run away and hide and that makes me feel incredibly guilty."

"Yevanna I would not force you to do something you were not ready for. You were born to rule, and you will do it well, I have always believed that. As for marriage and the war with Jotunheim, perhaps you would wish for neither to happen, but fate has intervened and I am one to believe that what will not kill you will make you stronger and better for enduring. It is not the future that you fear, but the uncertainty that it holds."

She nodded feeling slightly better, though it was difficult to stifle all the anxiety that was welling up inside her heart. It was just all so much, and soon she would be far from home, far from her father, and far from anything she had ever known. Still, he was right: she was born to do this. She just needed to take comfort and strength from that thought.

"You leave at dawn, correct?" Her father questioned, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Yes, my company and I will travel in front of the bulk of the army. Fulk requested that they travel to Asgard separately, so as not to put strain on the Bifrost. They should arrive about one week after I have."

He kissed her forehead in a rare moment of affection, causing Yevanna to smile broadly. "That is good, my dear. Now, hurry to make your selection and get you to bed. You will thank me when you've been in the saddle for three nights straight."

* * *

**Sorry this chapter is a bit of filler after the first half and that there's a lot of angsty thought montages going on; Loki and Yevanna just needed to hash out their emotions in this one, I guess. The next one takes place in Asgard, though. Yay! **

**Also, that thing Yeva give Loki is the blingy gold bit he wears on his chest, you know, the thing that looks like a statement necklace? I don't know the technical name for it and I couldn't find any good descriptions of Loki's armor, so I hope it was fairly clear what it was. Also, I recently watched my friend's blu-ray copies of _Thor _and _The Avengers_ and I must say, Loki's armor is super intricate and, well, pretty. There's all these cool details I couldn't see on my lame tiny TV before. I really need to invest in a nice TV so I can experience Loki in HD lol. Sorry, I'm finished fan-girling. :)  
**

**A special thanks to MaeveMonster for your lovely review! I couldn't send you a PM because I guess you weren't signed in when you made the review, but thank you for your kind words! It really made my day. A further thanks to anyone who added this story to their alerts / favorite list! **

**Comments, Questions, Constructive Criticism? Please Review or PM. **


	11. Chapter 11: ANOTHER!

**Hi all! I know this is hideously late. All I can say for myself is that second semester hit me harder than Thor's hammer (which, coincidentally I recently read weights as much as herd of 300 billion elephants). In an attempt to atone for my lateness, this chapter is a bit longer than usual. Also, I have some slightly sad news, not next Saturday, but the Saturday after I know I will not be able to update. I'll be in St. Louis all week for a conference and I know I won't have time to write. But I'll try to make the next few a bit long in an attempt to make up for it. Also, be ready for a long cultural notes section at the end of this chapter. :) **

* * *

Chapter Eleven: ANOTHER!

Yevanna stood nervously in the great hall of the Citadel, waiting for Aetius to arrive with his retinue. She and Theo had arrived at the castle very early that morning and decided it was best to simply stay awake until they reached Asgard. As the silence of the empty space crept into her consciousness, Yevanna questioned the wisdom of that decision. She had hoped the constant movement and excitement of the journey would keep her awake, but it seemed that Aetius had decided to sleep in this morning. She glanced at Theo, who looked just as tired as she surely did. He smiled weakly at her.

The large doors at the front of the room banged open and Aetius strode in, preening in his new armor. King Fulk looked like he was suppressing a look of annoyance at his son.

"Good morning, Father, Lady Yevanna! I trust I didn't keep you waiting too long, I had to make sure my armor was properly polished."

Now it was Yevanna's turn to suppress rolling her eyes. She wondered briefly if the boy had ever seen battle. Fulk was a lot younger than her father and more than capable of leading his own raids. Besides the Central Plains had less to worry about in terms of goblins and other irritations to society; there were less places for them to hide, unlike in her own forest kingdom. Really, Aetius was barely more than a boy, being roughly one hundred and fifty years old. His behavior shouldn't be surprising, although after his first taste of battle she reckoned he'd be in for a rude awakening.

Without replying to his son, Fulk approached a large gilt mirror that was positioned behind his throne. He placed his right hand on the surface, fingers spayed. The glass rippled at his touch. "Gatekeeper, the warriors are ready for departure."

Yevanna glanced at those assembled with her: roughly a dozen of her most trusted and skilled warriors, plus Aetius' retinue would be zapped through the magical bridge-way between the realms. Their supplies and armies would follow later; the only supplies going with them immediately would be their diplomatic gifts.

From out of the mirror's void a deep voice emanated. "I am the Gatekeeper of the realm. Be warned: only those who are pure of heart and intention shall pass through the Bifrost. Those found wanting will be cast into the abyss."

Well, that sounded cheery. She glanced at the young prince next to her and hoped inexperience and an inflated sense of self weren't tantamount to being found wanting. There were stories of villains and tragic heroes who were flung into the void and it never ended well for them, if they made it through to somewhere else and were heard from again they were irrevocably changed, damaged. Come to think of it, hopefully she wasn't found wanting. What did 'pure of heart' mean, exactly, anyway?

The room seemed to grow dimmer and flames of icy blue light licked out from the mirror, brighter and brighter. Right before she thought to close her eyes from the searing light, she felt a strong tug from behind her navel, nearly throwing her off balance.

And then, oh, and then, she was flying, hurdling through a tunnel of pure light. Every color of the rainbow and some she had never seen enveloped her, pushed against her skin. She tried to turn her head, but the sheer force of movement catapulting her forward made that action impossible. She could just discern Theo out of the corner of her eye, a blur of silver armor and blond hair. The light and colors seemed to brighten, all convulsing on a single point ahead. Closer and closer it loomed, until Yevanna thought she was going to be crash into a wall of light. Closing her eyes, she suddenly landed on her feet, arms shielding her face. She could hear the heavy breathing of her companions and their heartbeats echoed, reverberating through her bones. Slowly she lowered her arms and opened her eyes.

Gold. Bright, shining gold was all her mind could process for a moment. Details started to come into focus then. They were standing in a golden dome of a room with a large platform at the center. A man in golden armor with somber, honey eyes stared at them emotionlessly. In his hands he clutched a massive two-handed sword. So this must be the legendary Heimdall, guardian of the realm. When he spoke, it was the same melodic voice from the mirror, but somehow richer not stretched over the incredible distance between the two realms.

"Welcome to Asgard my Lady and Lords of the Elvenhome. The Allfather awaits you in the Throne Room."

They stepped cautiously out onto the Bifrost, which glittered and shifted, brightening where their feet touched. Stretching out across the azure sky and framed against the clouds was the capital of Asgard. Golden building soared into the velvet day with the royal palace rising above all like a pipe organ. For Yevanna it was impressively beautiful, but somehow cold, a distant beauty. She realized it was because, try as she might, she couldn't see any trace of nature anywhere, just buildings upon buildings sprawling out across the horizon. Given the shock of seeing this realm for the first time, she wondered how Alfheimr appeared to Loki when he first arrived. If he had found her homeland an uncivilized expanse of wilderness he never said so, but looking at shining metropolis spread before her she wouldn't blame him if he had.

A little farther up the prism bridge, two chariots and a number of horses waited to ferry them into the city. She and Theo mounted one, Aetius and his second too the other with the rest of their party falling behind their procession on horses.

"The Allfather certainly hasn't held back in giving us an impressive entrance." Theo whispered.

Yevanna felt her smile broaden as gripped the side of the chariot when it lurched to life. Theo was certainly right. As they entered the city their party was met with an honor guard of mounted knights lead by a lone woman with raven hair. Throngs of people lined the yellow bricked road that lead from the Bifrost to the palace, cheering loudly and throwing flowers as the chariots pulled into view. Yevanna certainly hadn't been expecting such spectacle, but it was nice in a way. She felt wanted and for a moment her anxieties about what this adventure might hold melted away to the back of her mind. She raised her hand and waved enthusiastically to the crowd, out of the corner of her eye she saw Aetius do the same.

Yevanna hardly had time to take in the courtyard they pulled into when the woman leading the honor guard approached. She was quite beautiful, though she wore a severe expression. Her raven hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore silver and red armor. The woman bowed with her hand over her heart first at Yevanna then at Aetius. Yevanna returned the gesture; the princeling nodded in acknowledgment.

"My Lady and Lords, I am Sif of Asgard. The Allfather sent me to escort you to the Throne Room, unless you have any urgent needs to attend too." Sif's chocolate eyes flitted briefly to Theo and then back to Yevanna, clearly looking to other woman for direction.

Yevanna smiled. So this was the legendary Lady Sif, the sword-maiden of Asgard. "Lady Sif, I am so pleased to make your acquaintance! Prince Thor told me much of your prowess in battle; it is an honor to meet such a formidable warrior."

A smile spread across Sif's face, softening her features and making her lovelier by far. "The honor is mine, Princess Yevanna, to meet Alfheimr's fabled Iron-Maiden. I have heard much of your sparring with Prince Loki, perhaps you will do me the honor as well?"

"I would like that very much."

Aetius cleared his throat and stepped forward. "And I am Prince Aetius of the Central Plains."

Sif's smiled tightened at his interruption.

"Yes, of course, a pleasure to meet you. And who is this gentleman?" She said, turning to Theo.

"Oh, forgive me; this is my second in command, Sir Theo of Meadow Downs."

Yevanna glanced at Theo and noticed he had a vacant expression often worn by forest creatures that had become startled by elves happening upon them. She nudged him slightly in the side as a gentle reminder to not forget his manners.

Theo started, a slight blush covering his cheeks. He bowed to Sif. "Forgive me my rudeness, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The other woman smiled lightly. "Well if there is nothing that needs attending, we should be going. The Allfather is waiting."

Yevanna motioned for some of her men to bring the chests of gifts and followed Sif through a set long of corridors. Aetius fell in line behind her and Theo, looking slightly irritated. Sighing, Yevanna realized that trying not to offend the vain prince was going to be just as much work as preparing for the war with Jotunheim.

They reached a large set of doors, intricately carved with knots and mythic creatures, which slowly swung open as they approached. For a moment Yevanna forgot to walk forward, as she was so overwhelmed by the glittering scene before her. Everything in the throne room was cover with gold. _Do the Asgardians have no other building material? _Long, elegant columns line a wide pathway to the massive golden throne. It looked more like a ship that a chair, with large wings that flew up and beyond. The room was filled with people, all dresses beautifully and applauding. Sif motioned them forward.

Squaring her shoulders with her head held high, Yevanna stepped forward, taking comfort on the familiar weight of Eld on her hip and presence Theo at her side. Still, she was slightly conscious of the fact that her silver armor with blue surcoat stood out against the golden opulence of the room. Walking down the length of the chamber seemed to take an eternity and she could practically hear the excitement and curiosity in the air as the aesir got their first look of elves in many centuries. The stairs to the dais bloomed before her, on the Allfather's left were three men whom she did not recognize but could guess easily enough that they were the Warriors Three, given their exalted status in the ceremony. To the right, on the highest step was a radiant blond woman, her neck dripping in diamonds. Yevanna assumed she was Queen Frigga. On the step below her was Thor, whose warm smile broadened as she caught his bright eyes. And of course next to him was Loki. Her breath stuck in her throat as their eyes met, he was gazing at her intently, with a slight smirk on his lips. Surreptitiously, he winked at her. Yevanna smiled coyly at him before turning her attention to the formidable man sitting on the throne before her. Everything about him screamed absolute authority, from this serious, worn face to the way his carried himself.

The party stopped and knelt before the Allfather, with their hands over their hearts. Lady Sif stepped forward.

"King Odin, Allfather of Asgard I present to you the envoys from the Elvenhome: Princess Yevanna, daughter and heir of King Theoderic of the Western Woods, known to her people as the Iron-Maiden, and Prince Aetius, son and heir of King Fulk of the Central Plains."

Yevanna tried not to frown at being introduced to King Odin as the 'Iron-Maiden'. Would that accursed name follow her forever?

Odin gazed down at them dispassionately from his massive throne, his one eye glittering in all the golden light. "Please, my lords and lady, stand."

They stood and Aetius stepped forward a pace. "Your Majesty, allow me to present to you gifts from my father, King Fulk."

The Allfather nodded, indicating that the boy should continue. Aetius motioned one of his men to step up. The man was carrying a long, slim box, which the young prince opened then took from him. He knelt and held the casket up to the throne.

"I present the sword of my grandfather, Aitus. Its name is the Whisperer of Death. It will never rust as long as tastes blood."

The Allfather nodded and indicated that one of the warriors to his left should take the box. Aetius presented another chest to the king, this time it contained a jeweled cup.

"And this is the Skål Cup, it never empties of whatever liquid placed into it."

Aetius was pleased with his personal gifts to the Allfather, she could tell. And rightly so, they were both quite impressive, given their magical abilities. He then went on to present a number of cultural gifts: silk cloth, teas, and some other trifles. Then it was her turn. Yevanna frowned slightly, her gifts were not as fine looking as the young prince's and she worried that their value would be overlooked. Still, she motioned for Theo to hand her the first chest. Inside, nestled on red velvet was a bone white horn, the body carved with runes and bound with bronze bands. She presented it to Odin.

"The Kingdom of the Western Woods presents to the Allfather the Horn of Fingole. When blown in need allies will always come heed its call. It has served our House for ten thousand years and it would honor us greatly to know it is now treasured by the House of Odin," she handed the horn to a handsome blond warrior, sad to see it leave her hands. However her father had decided it was better to bring the horn with her as a gift then leave it in Alfheimr where it would be of no use during the war. She retrieved the next gift from Theo. Holding up a small glass bottle which shimmered slightly, she hoped the Allfather understood the importance of its contents. "We present to Your Majesty water from the scared pool, connected through Yggdrasil to Mimir's Well. May its clarity bring further wisdom to the House of Odin."

After she bestowed the cultural gifts (exotic herbs meant for healing and dyeing and Summer Wine to name a few), Odin stood. "We gladly welcome you, friends, to Asgard and are appreciative of your fine gifts. Please join us this evening for a night of feasting at which time we shall bestow gifts of equal gratitude upon you."

With that they were waved out of the great hall into a corridor and a moment later Sif appeared before them. Yevanna was slightly disappointed that it seemed she would not be able to speak to Loki until the evening.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your chambers."

As they walked through the opulent palace complex, showing various members to their temporary rooms one at a time, Yevanna wondered were in Valhalla she would be staying, as it did not appear to be with the rest of the elves. They rounded a corner and approached another door.

"Sir Theo, you will be residing here. Lady Yevanna will be one floor above you." Sif's tone was all business.

Theo nodded and entered the room, leaving Yevanna alone with other woman. Though normally she would have loved to make conversation with another sword-maiden, Yevanna was too exhausted from the day's travels. Perhaps she would get the chance at the banquet that night. They climbed a winding staircase and then entered through a golden door into what appeared to be a common area. There were a number of chairs and couches surrounding a fire-pit and a table laden with food near a wall of archways leading to a balcony. There were five doors on the opposite wall. She hoped that at least one of them led to a bedroom. Sif opened the farthest door, motioning Yevanna in.

"I am sure you're quite tired. I will leave you here for now and someone will fetch you for the banquet tonight."

She bowed and left. Yevanna stepped into the room beyond and close the door. What greeted her was just as lavish as the rest of the palace. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the far wall, or rather lack of one, as a row of columns framed a golden balcony beyond. To the left was a massive golden bed on a raised platform in what she thought might be the shape of a swan judging by the spread wings and curved neck which adorned it. Across was a screened off area, which after further investigation was a sunken pool for bathing and chests for clothing, she presumed. There was also a small sitting area surrounding a fireplace and a desk next to wall of bookshelves. The floor was covered in rich carpets that she felt slightly guilty wearing boots on. Though part of her wanted nothing more than to examine the contents of the book cases, Yevanna instead stripped her armor as well as she could and collapsed in bed, hoping that a servant would wake her with enough time to make herself ready for dinner.

* * *

She was dreaming, she thought, because she was back home running through the forest. Leaping from branch to branch in the moonlight, flying into the darkness. It was comforting. A sudden shift in scene, so common and natural to dreams, brought her under a waterfall. Tendrils of cool liquid caressed her shoulders and back. Someone was calling her name, but she could find the source of the voice. No, that wasn't right. Someone outside her head was calling her name.

Yevanna's light blue eyes snapped open and she sat up quick as lightening. Where was she? Who had been talking to her? After a moment of disorientation, her eyes focused on the tall, slim figure standing next to her bed, hands raised palms up as if he were trying to calm a dangerous animal. She relaxed.

"Loki, you frightened me."

A smile spread across his thin lips. By Valhalla it was good to see him again. "My deepest apologies, Yeva, I was merely trying to wake you. Though you were sleeping so soundly I do believe a corpse would be envious."

She smiled, and climbing off the bed threw her arms around him in a moment of spontaneous affection. She let the welcome scent of leather and Loki envelope her. After a moment he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. They stayed like that, motionless, for a long moment before he held her out at arm's length, casting a dubious eye at her current attire.

"Though I very much enjoy the way you are dressed at the moment, I assume you would like to change before going down to dinner?" He cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

Yevanna, rather belatedly, realized with increasing embarrassment that she was clad in only a linen shift that fell mid-thigh. It was fine for sleeping, but the fact that Loki had seen her in it was almost more than inappropriate, not to mention mortifying. She blushed.

"Blood and damnation, avert your eyes!" She scolded as she dashed behind the dressing screen as fast as she could.

His hearty chuckle filled the chamber. "Do relax, darling. We are to be wed after all."

"Yes, but we are not yet wed and until then, it is not proper for you to see me is such a state of undress. How did you get in here, anyway?"

"My own chambers are right next door." His voice was still full of mirth as he spoke.

Yevanna dressed herself as quickly as she could, musing over what he said. Their rooms were next to each other? That was comforting, given how far away she was from all the other elves.

She sighed with agitation, realizing that she would not be able to do the lacing on the back of her gown by herself. Further, there were no servants in sight. Well, that left her one option. She stepped from behind the screen, holding the top of her silver lace on white satin gown to her chest.

"Can you help me with the back?"

His smile softened. "Of course. Turn around."

She obliged him and suppressed the pleasant shudder he evoked by running his fingers down her back.

"Let me know if it's too tight." He murmured as his dexterous fingers began tugging at the laces.

They stood in silence, with Loki concentrating on her gown and Yevanna painfully conscious of how loud her heart was beating. This had to be the single strangest, and perhaps most intimate, situation she had ever been in. Though she did not want to admit it to herself, she enjoyed how close his was to her, the feeling of his large hands on her back. She cast her eyes around the room, trying to take in the details in order to distract herself. Hopefully he couldn't hear her heartbeats the way she could. No doubt if he did, he would tease her about it.

After what seemed like a sweet eternity, Loki released her. She turned to face him, glancing up at his handsome face through her eyelashes. "Thank you."

He inclined his head in a slight bow. "I am at your service, my lady."

She laughed at his uncharacteristically humble attitude. "Now be careful saying such things, my lord, or I shall have you helping me with my hair as there seems to be a lack of servants for these rooms."

He smiled. "I perish the thought. Very well, I shall find your lady's maid and leave you to your mysterious female arts. I will return in an hour to escort you to the banquet."

Plucking her hand from her side, he kissed the back of her palm. She watched him with amusement as he strode out of the room. Loki certainly was in a good mood. A few moments later and girl with short cropped golden hair and pert nose entered the room and bowed.

* * *

Yevanna looked out over the glittering banquet hall filled with perhaps a couple thousand of Asgard's elite and their servants. It seemed to her that even the aesir themselves glowed with an inner golden light, reflecting their bright world. Yevanna tried to keep that observation from stirring up feelings of inadequacy. She was supposed to be sitting between Loki and Theo, but Lady Sif had insisted on switching seats so that Theo was on the other side. Yevanna did not mind though, she was eager to become better acquainted with the woman. Everyone was waiting rather restlessly for the Allfather and Queen Frigga to enter, though she could feel a fair number of eyes upon her. She wondered absently how general the knowledge of Loki's engagement was.

Moments later the doors directly behind the elaborate throne at the center of the main banquet table opened and the King and Queen entered. Odin helped Frigga to her seat before turning to the assembly.

"My people, before we partake in this feast of fellowship, I have gifts of friendship to bestow. Princess Yevanna of Alfheimr, step forward."

Yevanna stood and moved next to King Odin, wondering why he had addressed her as the princess of Alfheimr. Well, she supposed, one does not question the Allfather.

"As many of you assembled here know," he continued "Lady Yevanna will be wed to our second son, Prince Loki."

He paused as the crowd applauded. Yevanna felt her lips spread into a broad smile.

"As such, we wish to make her feel welcomed," he motioned for a nearby servant to hand him a bundle wrapped in green silk. He unfolded the fabric revealing a brilliant diamond necklace that glittered like fire.

"This is Brisingamen, fit only to grace the most beautiful of women. To be worn tonight and on your wedding night."

Yevanna swallowed hard, barely believing her eyes. Brisingamen belonged to Freya, Goddess of Love. If it was lent to her for her wedding night, well, she didn't have to imagine what was implied.

Ignoring her surprise, the Allfather moved behind her and fastened the heavy piece of jewelry to her bare throat. It felt warm, though she knew the metal should be cool to the touch. Next, he held out the length green silk that Brisingamen had been wrapped in. it appeared to be a sort of belt. "This is the Green Garter, which protects the wearer form harm in battle. A fit gift, I think, for our warrior princess."

Yevanna thanked the Allfather and returned to her seat and listened patiently as he bestowed on Aetius an enchanted dagger which glowed white when enemies were near. After the brief gift giving ceremony, the food was brought out and the hall rang with sounds of merriment. When the food was finished, the tables were removed to make room for dancing and general mingling. Loki led Yevanna down to a group of people, out of which she recognized both Thor and Sif.

"Loki, we were hoping you would introduce your lovely fiancée to us soon," said the same blond man from the welcoming ceremony earlier that day.

Loki smiled slightly, though the warmth did not reach his eyes. "Yevanna, you of course know Thor and Sif, but let me introduce Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun, collectively known as the Warriors Three."

Yevanna smiled at each of the men as they kissed her hand in turn. Fandral was of course the dashing blond man, Volstagg looked older and rather portly but good natured all the same, and Hogun was rather severe in looks and voice. "A Pleasure to meet all of you."

They talked for a while, mainly discussing past feats of valor that each had heard about the other. She was quite enjoying herself especially when she and Sif began a side conversation discussing various weapons.

"I have heard that you use a double sided sword? Do you not find that unwieldy?" She questioned.

"I do occasionally, though most of the time I prefer a short sword and buckler. The double sided sword can be cumbersome, but it is helpful at keeping enemies at bay by using a longer weapon. Is it true that your sword is magical?"

Yevanna was surprised at how much Sif seemed to know about her. It was one thing Yevanna thought, to know about the most famous female warrior in the Nine Realms, it was quite another thing for that same woman to know so much about her! "I hadn't realized the events on Alfheimr were so well known. Yes, my sword, Eld, alights with white flame during battle."

"Where ever did you get such a weapon?" Sif inquired.

"My father gave it to me. It belonged to his father, the last High King of Alfheimr, and his fathers' before him. It is quite ancient, but dependable. I would not trade it for the world."

"When you practice with it, does it produce flames?"

"No. I have never been able to discern why, but it seems to know the difference between an enemy and simply sparring, for example, with Theo."

Sif's expression shifted slightly, she seemed more interested. "And does Sir Theo spar well? With his arm, I mean."

Yevanna frowned slightly. "Well, it is a recent injury, but he is improving every day. Where is he, I wonder?"

She looked around the hall and spotted Theo standing awkwardly next to a potted plant. She motioned him to come over to their party. He looked mildly surprised at first, but happily sauntered over. Yevanna left him and Sif to their discussion and turned back to the main group just in time for a new couple to approach. The man was tall and handsome like most of the aesir, with chocolate colored hair and bright golden eyes. The woman was slim with golden locks and wane, tired look to her otherwise lovely face.

"Lady Yevanna, this is Lady Sigyn and my cousin, Lord Baldur." Loki introduced them.

"Yes, when we heard the fabled Iron-Maiden of Alfheimr was here, we just had to meet you." Sigyn's voice reminded Yevanna of honey, high and sweet, but she couldn't decide if the other woman was being sincere or not.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." Yevanna decided being polite was the best way to move forward.

The strains of a waltz echoed through the massive chamber and couples began to move onto the dance flood. Baldur looked at Yevanna and held out his hand with a smile. "Princess Yevanna, would you do me the honor of sharing this dance?"

She was slightly taken aback, not sure how dance partner customs worked in Asgard. Was she supposed to dance only with her fiancé? Besides, Baldur had only just been introduced to her. Still, rather than risk being rude, she smiled and took his hand.

"Of course, though I do not think I know the steps."

He led her out to the floor, and placed one hand on her waist and clasping hers with his other hand. "It's quite easy, especially if you have a competent man to lead you."

As they twirled around the dance floor Yevanna caught sight of some of her other new acquaintances partnered up as well: Sif with Theo, both willfully ignoring the looks they got as Theo clumsily led them around the room; Thor with his mother; and Loki with Sigyn.

"My cousin is a lucky man, my lady, you are truly beautiful." Baldur whispered to her.

"I would rather wish Loki be considered lucky for reasons other than how I look." She hoped she didn't sound too irritated, but really, there were more important things in the world than beauty.

Baldur only chuckled. "Yes of course, please forgive me. You seem to have a wicked tongue as well. Quite the match, I think, for our silver tongued prince."

They continued the dance in silence, Yevanna reflecting on his words, wondering how much truth there was to them and if others felt the same. As they returned to the group, Loki immediately claimed her hand for the next dance. As he spun her out onto the dance floor, she smiled up at him.

"Are you enjoying yourself, darling?" He murmured.

"Of course, everyone seems very kind and Sif is delightful."

Loki grimaced slightly. "Yes, well she's never been my biggest admirer, but I'm glad you two are getting along. I'll wager you have much in common. How do you like Asgard?"

She paused before replying, trying to think of how to word her response. "It is…very golden, metallic. To be honest, it seems strange to me not to see nature everywhere. I rather miss trees."

"I shall have to show you the gardens tomorrow, then. Perhaps I can change your mind about Asgard."

She smiled up at him. "I would like that very much."

* * *

Loki was rather enjoying himself for once; banquets and parties were usually not his favorite social events. No, he usually preferred solitude. But tonight was different. He was please Yevanna seemed to be having a good time as well. He smiled to himself as he thought back to early that evening, when he had wakened her from her slumber. She had looked so peaceful lying on her stomach with her arms around her head, but she was bloody difficult to wake up. He had wondered when the last time she had gotten a decent night's sleep. He had tried shaking her shoulders and her back, but all she did was sigh in her sleep. And the way she had looked in her sleeping shift, the way the flimsy fabric had clung to her body as she hugged him. He sighed, tearing his mind away from the mental image before more lascivious thoughts could take over.

The night was wearing on and most of the older members of the court had long since retired to bed, including his parents. Things were becoming rowdier, and the mead was flowing freely.

"Lady Yevanna I do believe you promised me a drinking competition." Thor boomed good naturedly.

Yevanna laughed. "I am quite sure that was in jest. You would have me under the table before you felt anything!"

"Come on, one round? Do not go back on your word now!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh alright, but only if I am allowed to drink the Summer Wine I brought from Alfheimr. I cannot abide the taste of mead."

Looking quite pleased with himself, Thor set off to set up the gaming table. Yevanna made to follow but Loki caught her arm. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Relax, I grew up drinking Summer Wine, it's like water to me. I've got this handled." She winked at him and continued on her way.

Loki sighed and followed with the rest of the group over to the table. He stood slightly to the side, trying to decide if he should do the gentlemanly thing and bet on Yevanna or the smart thing and bet on Thor. It seemed the thought of someone challenging Thor had excited the crowd. Sif, Theo, Fandral, and Sigyn all placed bets on the elvish Princess. Hogun, Volstagg, Baldur, and, grudgingly, Loki bet on Thor. The table was set with twenty mugs of mead before Thor and twenty goblets of red wine before Yevanna. Each group of ten was divided by a small glass of clear liquid. It looked innocuous enough, but Loki knew that it was quite potent; Aqua Vitae it was known as. It packed a punch strong enough to knock a dragon out after three or four shots. Loki stepped between Thor and Yevanna.

"The rules of the game are simple: you both drink as quickly as you are able. When you reach one of the shots, you much recite at least six lines of poetry or song before taking it. The first one to vomit, fall, pass out, forget their poem, or give up looses. If by chance you both finish, the first one to do so wins. In an event of a tie, the audience will vote based on the eloquence of your poetry or song. Good luck."

Thor and Yevanna shook hands, and began to drink as soon as they heard Loki bang his goblet on the table. Thor seemed to be going to for speed, slamming each cup down quickly, sometimes dropping them to the floor. Yevanna was more careful, making sure to set each glass upside down on the table. Thor reached the first shot:

"Hwaet! We Gar-Dena in gear-dagum  
Theod-cyninga thrym gefrunon,  
Hu da aethelingas ellen fremedon.  
Oft Scyld Scefling sceathena threatum  
Monegum maegthum meodo-setla ofteah;  
Egsode Eorle, syddan aerest weard"

He paused a moment, making sure that was six line, before tossing the clear liquid back. But before it could touch his lips, Yevanna had picked hers up and in clear voice started to recite:

"Farwell sweet earth and northern sky,  
For ever blest, since here did lie  
And here with lissom limbs did run  
Beneath the Moon, beneath the Sun,  
Luthien Tinuviel  
More fair that mortal tongue can tell."

They had finished the first shot of Aqua Vitae simultaneously though both were slowing in their consumption. Thor was swaying a little from side to side and Loki was reminded that his brother had been drinking heavily throughout the night. Glancing at Yevanna, though, it did not look like that fact would be much help; she was looking rather green in complexion. They finished the twelfth, then thirteenth drink. Thor threw the cup on the ground, clearly excited and cheered by the game.

"ANOTHER!"

Within the time of his shout, Yevanna slammed her fifteenth drink down, clearly ahead of the God of Thunder. She was beginning to look sick though and the through crossed Loki's mind that he might have to leech the alcohol out of her blood soon so it didn't kill her. Yevanna was on the nineteenth and Thor the eighteenth, suddenly, she hiccupped and looked like she might lose the contents of her stomach. Shaking her head and taking a deep breath she reached for the twentieth cup, though now Thor had caught up to her. It seemed it would come down to who could better recite poetry while incredible intoxicated.

They both shouted out their poems, trying to speak over each other. Luckily, Asgardians could function on more than one level of consciousness, making it, if not easy, possible to listen to both at the same time.

Yevanna: "Of enemy hath beguil'd thee, yet unknown,  
And me with thee hath ruin'd, for with thee  
Certain my resolution is to die.  
How can I live without thee, how forego  
Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly join'd,  
To live again in these wild woods forlorn?

Thor: "The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep,  
In hollow halls beneath the fells.  
For ancient king and elvish lord

They both tossed the clear liquid back and slammed the tiny glass cups onto the table, Thor shattering his in the process.

"Blood and damnation!" He yelled, grasping his bleeding hand, which had already began to heal.

Yevanna swooned and gripped the table for support. Everyone turned to Loki to judge the winner.

"Yevanna is the winner."

"WHAT?" Thor thundered.

"Your last poem was only five lines long." Loki spoke calmly, but he could not suppress the smile from his lip. He didn't really care that he had lost his bet.

"Um…I don…I don't feel well." Yevanna groaned. Loki was at her side in an instant, and not a moment too soon. Her knees buckled underneath her and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Loki caught her as she collapsed, picking her up with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back.

"If you'll excuse me, it seems my fiancée has had too much to drink." With that he strode out of the hall, making for Yevanna's bed chamber.

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoyed chapter 11! Please let me know what you think. Okay, on to the cultural notes. :) (you can totally skip it if you find it boring, but university has beat into my head that I need cite where I get my ideas for some of this.)**

**Aetius' Gifts: The sword is my own creation. The cup is loosely based off of one of the Thirteen Treasures of Britain. "Skål" means "cheers" in Swedish. It's what you say when you toast with alcoholic drinks ;). The dagger he got from the Allfather is my own creation, but is kind of based off of Frodo's sword Sting, which glows blue when orcs are nearby. **

**Yevanna's Gifts: Fingole's Horn is based off the Horn of Gondor from Lord of the Rings (hey baby, do you want to blow my horn of Gondor? ;)). The well water is my own. Brisingamen is from Norse myth. The Green Garter is from the medieval English poem _Sir Gawain and the Green Knight_. **

**Thor's poems: The first poem in the opening six lines of the Anglo-Saxon poem _Beowulf. _Like the nerd that I am, I have a bilingual edition. I changed the spelling a little, since in Anglo-Saxon this symbol "þ" makes a "th" sound. I figured it would be easier to read it that way. The second poem is the second stanza and first line of the third stanza from the Misty Mountain song from the _Hobbit._  
**

**Yevanna's poems: The first is Beren's Song of Parting from Tolkien's _Silmarillion_. The second was lines 905-910 from Book IX of Milton's _Paradise Lost. _I have the rest of the quote on my profile if you'd like to check it out. I looooove _Paradise Lost_ and that's my favorite quote from it. I had it recited at my wedding (not the bit about dying...the rest of it). **

**Okay, that's all the cultural stuff. Cookies to you if you got at least half of the references. A big thank you to MaeveMonster for your review of Chapter 10 and thank you to Zeldaxlove2468 for reviewing, like, three chapters! Your kind words always make me feel fantastic. to "Guest" who reviewed chapter 5, the reason Yevanna lied to her father about Loki's leaf was because he told her not to mention it to anyone and she (wrongly) didn't think it was really that important. Hope that answers your question. Finally, a big thanks to everyone who added this story to your favorite or alert lists! I really appreciate it. :) **

**Comments, questions, or criticism? Please PM or Review.**

**Oh, PS: Happy Belated Birthday to the reason we're all here! Yesterday Tom Hiddleston turned 32! Woohoo! May he and his glorious cheekbones have a wonderful year. **


	12. Chapter 12: Ragnarok

**Greetings! So I've decided I need to stop deluding myself that I'm going to get these chapters up during the weekend (since that's pretty much the only time I have to write them). Instead I'm moving my update day to Monday. Hopeful this will help me get these chapters up regularly for all of you lovely people. :) In other news, I'm St. Louis bound in less than 7 hours! Unfortunately this means next week's chapter will be put up a week late, because I know I'm going to be busy at my conference and then catching up with all my homework / readings. Le sigh. Believe me that I'd much rather be writing about Loki than trying to solve the world drug problem. :) **

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Ragnarok

Loki entered the common room between his and Yevanna's rooms, hesitating to enter her chambers. He knew it would not be a good idea to leave her by herself, given the insane amount of alcohol she had imbibed. With resolution he turned to his chambers, willing the door to open before him. He gently set Yevanna on his bed and paused to gaze at her. True, he was not pleased with how sick she had made herself, elves could suffer from alcohol poisoning just like any other poison, but he also recognized that it wasn't really his place to reprimand her. She was a grown woman who had demonstrated on many occasions that she could adequately see to her own needs. Still, he couldn't help the strong feeling of protection from welling up inside of him. Loki was just glad he had been able to catch her when she fainted.

He slowly ran his hand just over her body, not quite touching her, but close enough he could analyze how sick she might be. Tendrils of liquor met his hand, slowly melting off her skin. Well, she would certainly feel ill in the morning, but she wasn't in an immediate danger, except for perhaps being sick on herself. As tenderly as he could, Loki repositioned Yevanna so that she was on her side, head resting on her arm. That should be adequate. Though he couldn't quite say why he did so, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, brushing a few fiery locks out of his way meanwhile. With a final glance at her prone body, he walked over to his alchemy table and set to work making an elixir that would take away the ill effects of her misadventure.

* * *

Yevanna's eyes slowly opened as she became vaguely aware of consciousness. She could immediately discern from the near darkness and sharp, acidic smell in the air that firstly, it was not yet dawn and secondly, she was not in her own chambers. She sat up cautiously and peered into the blackness, allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust. As she did, the room started to spin, reminding her of the poor life decision she had made earlier. She focused on the thing right before her, trying to quell the nauseous sensations rising in her stomach. By the Allfather she was probably still drunk. She shook her head for a moment and focused. She was in a large, golden bed similar in some respects to her own, though instead of wings it had long, curved horns at the front which bent back to the headboard. She inhaled heavily as the room slowly stopped spinning, though there was still a tingling, weightless feeling in her limbs and her head felt disconnected to her body. She made to get up, but seemingly out of nowhere a strong arm shot out of the darkness and pushed her gently back to the bed.

"I would not try to get up just yet, Yeva," a silken voice purred from the darkness.

"Loki?"

She looked and, sure enough, he was standing at the side of the bed, though if he had been there a moment before she couldn't say. "What am I doing here? Where am I?"

He let go of her and a small bundle of white flames appeared in his hand, illuminating his handsome face. The flickering of flames against his skin disoriented her a little and she looked away. "I brought you to my chambers so I could better attend to your health. You did collapse in a drunken stupor after all."

His voice was chiding and not at all amused. She frowned as the situation became clearer to her. She was alone, in a state which she did not trust herself to think clearly, with Loki in his bed chambers. "I should go back to my room."

"If you wish to leave, I won't force you to stay, but at least take this." He left the white flame hanging in the air between them and pulled out a small blue vial from where she did not know.

"What is it?"

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "So distrustful tonight. It's an elixir which should relieve you of the most adverse effects of your little adventure with Thor."

She really wished she was sober enough to read all the emotion on display in his voice with that last remark. Sighing and deciding not to be so ridiculous, she took the vial from him. her thoughts were a jumble of confusion, but she tried to convey what she was thinking all the same. "Thank you. I…I suppose it might be better if I stay here. I mean, in case this potion doesn't work as planned. I mean, if you do not mind me, here. Tonight."

Loki gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, not too close to her, but not far either. He slowly pushed some wild hair behind her ear, running his thumb over her the curve of her cheekbone. "You are always welcome here, Yeva."

She smiled shyly at him, her sense of the impropriety of the situation melting away with touch.

"How do you do that?" She inquired, breathlessly.

"Do what?" He murmured back.

"Make me feel like I've known you all my life and that there is nowhere else I'd rather be than at your side." Perhaps it was liquid courage that made her speak, but the sentiment was true.

His broad, wolfy smile spread over his lips. "Believe me, darling, the feeling is mutual."

The moment stretched in silence and Yevanna felt as if she wanted him to do something, something she didn't know or understand. He seemed guarded, hesitant. Perhaps it was because of she was intoxicated; he didn't want anything to be misunderstood. Her eyes fell on his hands, resting innocuously on his knees. She had never noticed how elegant they were, how much she liked his long tapered fingers and the knotty mass of veins twisting below the pale surface. She wanted…she didn't know what she wanted. No, that wasn't true, she didn't know how to say what she wanted. All she could see in her mind's eye was those hands skimming her body, caressing her lips, and leaving trails of fire in their wake.

Fuck. She needed to get a handle on herself. Tearing her eyes away from him and hoping that her voice did not betray her not quite articulated thoughts, she spoke. "Should I take it now, or in the morning?"

"Now I should think," his voice was heavy with emotion, reflecting her own. Perhaps he could read her thoughts despite her efforts.

She nodded and, unstopping the bottle, drank it quickly. "It tastes like mint."

He chuckled softly. "I took the liberty of adding some flavoring. Otherwise it would have probably tasted like Thor's riding boots."

She made a face at that thought; it was sufficiently disgusting enough to refocus her mind on more familiar ground. "Where will you sleep if I stay here?"

"I do not worry too much about me, Yeva. I am used to staying up all night, working at my studies or experiments."

She frowned, that did not seem very fair. "Well, if you do feel the need to rest…what I'm trying to say is, it's your bed. Please don't let me inconvenience you."

He looked surprised at her offer, as if he wasn't sure if he should take it seriously. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind."

Realizing just how tired she was, Yevanna sank back onto the silken sheets, curling onto her side. She felt Loki's weight leave the bed and heard him walk into the darkness. As she slowly drifted into slumber it seemed the light above her bed dimmed.

* * *

Yevanna woke suddenly to the bright sunlight of morning pouring into her eyes. She tightly squeezed them shut, but to no avail. The events of last night crashed over her and she groaned slightly. What in Valhalla had she been thinking, letting Thor talk her into the drinking contest? And just what the actual Hel had gone on between her and Loki when she woke during the night? While these thoughts raced through her mind, she started to become more conscious of her physical situation; she could feel someone softly breathing on the back of her neck and a hand resting on her shoulder. Slowly, with as little disturbance as possibly, she opened her eyes and turned her head. It seemed Loki had taken her at her word and, succumbing to sleep, joined her in bed. He was lying behind her, almost but not quite pressing his body against hers. She sat up slowly, waiting to see if the feeling if his hand sliding off of her shoulder would wake him. It didn't; he must have been sleeping deeply. He looked so different when he was sleeping: gone was the calculating suspicion and self-assured air. Instead he looked peaceful with a slight smile across his lips and usually neat hair falling around his face.

Yevanna realized how creepy she was being, just staring at him while he slept and eased herself out of bed. Walking past all manner of strange alchemical equipment, bookshelves, and general clutter, she made her way to the door. She paused, trying to discern if there was anyone on the other side in the common area. She didn't hear anything at first, but just as she was about to turn the door handle, Volstagg's unmistakable booming laugh reverberated through the chambers. Well, she certainly wasn't going out that way. She looked back across the room; Loki was still sound asleep on his vast bed and she really did not want to wake him for help. Then she got an idea.

Making her way over to the balcony, she peered around the side to make sure no one was on from the adjacent chambers. It was all clear. Making her way to the edge closest to her own bedroom, she climbed onto the railing. It was probably about a six foot gap to the other side, but that was nothing. Crouching low, she leaped across the void, landing nimbly on her feet. She stood and walked into her room, taking note of the astonished face of the maid who was currently cleaning her fireplace.

"Good morning, my lady," the girl managed to stammer out as she curtsied.

Yevanna smiled. "Good morning…I'm sorry, I do not know your name."

"Eve…Evelina, your highness."

She smiled. "That's a lovely name. Please don't mention my unconventional entrance to anyone, Evelina."

"Of course not, my lady."

Yevanna busied herself with preparing for the day. The Allfather wanted to start the war council as soon as possible. As she and Aetius were the last of the diplomats to arrive, he wished to waste no time. Seeing as most of the people at the council would be men, she decided that wearing a gown would be counterproductive. If they saw her as a woman, they wouldn't take her suggestions seriously. She settled on a pair of tan leather trousers, a dark blue tunic, and her favorite riding boots. Strapping Eld to her hip and grabbing a piece of toast, she was out the door just in time to follow Sif to the meeting room.

"Good morning, Sif," she greeted.

"Good morning, Yevanna. You're looking well," the other woman said, not quite hiding the amusement in her voice.

Yevanna laughed. "Yes, well, never underestimate the power of a decent night's sleep. Where are we headed to?"

"The Allfather's chambers. Follow me, most of the men are already there."

After walking up an inordinate amount of stairs, they entered a darkly lit golden chamber somewhere near the top of the palace. At the other end of the room was a rather plain throne, already occupied by King Odin. Two rows of chairs lined the room, most of which were occupied. She was surprised at the turnout. Next to the Allfather on his right was Thor, looking as princely as she had ever seen him, and across from him on Odin's left was Loki. There were empty chairs on next to either prince; she and Sif made their way down the room, towards them. She tried not to stare at the different beings as she passed them, but it was difficult. The first four seats were occupied by dwarves, all clad in heavy plate armor and practically lost in their full beards and hair. She was surprised to see dwarves at the council; from what Thor had said so long ago, it seemed as if all the residents of Svartalfheim were siding with the Jotuns, but perhaps their world was wracked with internal strife. As she passed them, they looked at her with distrust. Eons of animosity between the two races would not be, it seemed, cast aside entirely. Next, she saw the immaculately beautiful Freya and her brother Freyr, and Yevanna reminded herself to thank the goddess for borrowing her the Brisingamen for her wedding, as she did not get the chance to speak to her the night before. She certainly didn't want to pass up the opportunity to speak to Freyr; according to the ancient legends, he was the father of elves besides being one of the chief of the Vanir. Across from them were those whom she could only assume were from Munspellheim: the land of fire. Two beings, both seemingly male watched her from golden eyes, their skin was pale but with long swirling stripes that looked like open wounds revealing glowing orange flesh below. Their hair was as wild as hers, thick and curling, but short cropped and the color of gold which had been stained with blood and set on fire.

She passed Aetius and his man before taking her seat between Theo and Loki; Sif sat across from her, between the Warriors Three and Thor. Yevanna was glad the Allfather spoke as soon as they were seated as she was not sure in her ability to make conversation with Loki after all that had passed the night before.

"Now that we have all arrived," the Allfather boomed. "We must devise a plan on how to confront out foes. I wish to acquaint all present with the situation as most recently perceived by Heimdall. The Jotuns have gathered to their frozen fortress Hel and her ilk, their brethren the Ice creatures from Niflheim, the dark elves, and half the dwarf clans. I wish to welcome those who have made the journey to Asgard and dedicated themselves to this cause. I must impress upon all of you the importance of this matter; without our triumph, devastation and catastrophe beyond thought would be unleashed on the Nine Realms. I speak of Ragnarok: the end of all things."

The silence in the room was palpable as everyone reflected on his words. _Ragnarok_. Yevanna had not thought it possible that events during her life could actually lead to the destruction of the universe. She glanced at Loki, trying to fathom what was going through his mind. Most everyone knew the prophesies surrounding Ragnarok. The fact that nearly all those assembled were bound up with the events leading up to the end of the world made everything unbearably uncomfortable.

Sif cleared her throat. "Allfather, is this a certainty?"

"Nothing is certain, but many of the future's paths stretch in that direction."

"We doubt that you, Allfather, called us here to give portents of doom. What is your plan?" The soft, hissing voice belonged to one of the creatures from Munspellheim.

"I do not wish to make the first move, nor do I wish to be caught off guard. What I propose is caution. We should gather intelligence and learn their master strategy before we proceed with formulating ours."

"How much information is Heimdall able to see?" The gruff voice emulated from one of the dwarves at the other end of the room.

"He is able to see much, but their secret councils are hidden from him."

"We could send a scouting party," Yevanna ventured.

"A scouting party? It would be better to attack them right away, while we have the element of surprise." Thor said.

"Do not be ridiculous, if they know already that we already oppose them, that's the first thing they will expect of us." Loki returned.

"What do you suggest then, brother?" Thor's usually cheerful voice was petulant, leading Yevanna to realize just how much she never wanted to see him truly angry.

"Yevanna's suggestion of a scouting party was a sound idea."

"Even if we could somehow manage to sneak into the realm, how do you imagine getting close enough to overhear anything of import?" This was asked by Freyr.

"There are more ways that just the Bifrost between the worlds," one of the dwarves spoke up. "There are tunnels and dark waters beneath the earth; everything leads back to the Yggdrasil eventually. It could be done easily enough."

"The question of how to actually infiltrate their intelligence is still a problem. We cannot send spies; they would know us in a heartbeat." Freyr countered.

"An elf could do it," Aetius spoke up. "Our sense of hearing is superior to the other races. We would not necessarily need to hid in plain site or make our presence known, simply get close enough while concealed." His self-confident tone seemed to grate on those in the room, but they considered his words.

"We cannot risk getting too close." Hogun spoke gruffly.

"He's right. Why you'd need to be in the fortress at Utgard to hear anything useful." Fandral added.

Yevanna frown, thinking. "Not necessarily. Any good scouting elf can hear a regular conversation from two hundred yards away with prefect conditions. Factoring the wind and thickness of whatever building they might be in, I could easily report from one hundred to one fifty yards away."

"Are you volunteering?" Thor inquired.

She paused before deciding. "I suppose I am."

"You should not go alone, it is too dangerous." Though he spoke loud enough for the entire assembly to hear, Loki looked at her earnestly.

"It is decided then," the Allfather spoke, causing everyone to turn their attentions to him. "Yevanna and Loki will go to Jotunheim on a scouting mission using one of the passages Baldric suggested."

The assembly looked around, a general murmur of consent in the air. Odin dismissed them for the time being, though he asked that she, Loki, and the dwarf stay back. They stood clustered around the throne, listening to Odin's plan. They reached the agreement, though the dwarf, Baldric, looked at her with distrust, as though he wasn't sure he wanted to let the elf before him in on the secrets of the earth.

They exited the room agreeing to meet up in three days. Baldric excused himself to go study his tunnel schemas in order to find the best route. She and Loki walked down the hallway together in silence. She was unsure what to say.

They reached the threshold of tower which contained their chambers and Loki paused. "You seem to be feeling better this morning."

She blushed a little, still embarrassed by her less than regal behavior the night before. "Yes, thank you for taking care of me."

"Of course, it was no trouble at all," He paused a moment, still hesitating about going back to his room, it seemed. "I believe I offered to show you the gardens yesterday. Would you like to see them now?"

Yevanna slipped her hand into his larger one and smile. "I would like that very much."

* * *

The royal gardens in Asgard were quite extensive; they spread out behind the palace for what seemed like miles. Yevanna let her eyes wander over the welcome sight of greenery. Still, she could see the gardens had been subjugated to the aesir's will. Everything was well organized, shrubs cut into neat boxes or elegant animal shapes. There was not a leaf or petal out of place; yet she could not deny it was nice to be outside again and feel the sun and wind on her skin. She and Loki were currently walking through a hedge maze. He seemed to have every turn memorized and soon they found themselves in the gazebo at the heart of it.

"You got us here quickly." She observed, hoping to elect an explanation from him.

"Yes, I used to come here often when I was a child…when I needed solitude."

She sat on one of the stone benches and absentmindedly played with her braid. Loki rested one foot on the bench, leaning on his knee.

She smiled wistfully. "All I had was solitude when I was a child. Father let me run wild and do as I pleased. I don't think I ever put on a pair of shoes until I was fifty," she paused a moment. "Well, I suppose Beowulf was often with me."

"You mean to tell me you weren't locked in a tower to protect your virtue from the outside world?" He jested.

She laughed. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but no. Besides, no tower could hold me now, and none certainly could have held me as a child. I was quite precocious and determined. Why did you want to be alone?"

Loki fixed his emerald eyes on a point far away, as if looking back to his own past. "The chaos of the palace in general, I suspect. Thor was always so boisterous. I know he meant well, but I preferred my books and studies to playing at war."

She nodded, imaging a Loki as a little boy; he would have been very serious looking, she thought, but definitely not afraid to show that he was smarter than everyone else around him. It brought a smile to her lips.

"How did you manage to leave my chamber this morning? I did not hear rumors of it, so I'm assuming you weren't caught."

His question surprised her, but she smiled. "I told you no tower could hold me. I jumped from onto my balcony from yours."

Loki threw his head back and laughed. "I'm sure that would have been such a sight, you still in your ball gown and all. I imagine you almost killed your maid from fright."

She laughed. "Yes, unfortunately."

He pushed himself upright and stood in front of her. He pulled her up, so they stood close together. He rested his hands on her hips and smiled down at her. That smile, she sighed, did such things to her that she blushed to think about them.

"Are you liking Asgard any better today?"

"Of course, Loki. I was simply overwhelmed last night. It is very different from Alfheimr, but it is your home, I could never dislike it."

He looked down, not meeting her gaze. "Oh Yevanna, Asgard is where I live, true, but it is not my home, not really."

His whispered words pierced her heart in a way nothing had before. His sadness, layered with trepidation at admitting such emotion was just as heartbreaking as the sentiment behind the words. She wondered how much he used his wit and intelligence to keep people from seeing this heartache. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand against his cheek. He turned into her touch.

"Well, then, it seems to me that we shall have to find it for you."

Yevanna slid her other arm around his neck and slowly, hesitantly met his lips with hers. Loki seemed surprised at first that she would kissed him, until this point it had only been him kissing her, but he quickly responded. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close and she could feel his lithe, muscular frame pressed against her softer body. He kissed her tenderly at first, matching her own gentleness, but soon met her lips with more passion. Loki's kisses became hungrier and he ran his tongue over her bottom lip. After a split second's hesitation, she yielded to his request and his tongue caressed her own, exploring her mouth. She could feel heat spreading through her belly and lower as his hand roamed over her body, now taking in the swell of her hip, here the curve of her breasts. She trailed her hand down his neck and chest, wondering if she was brave enough to venture lower. Loki playfully bit her bottom lip, electing a soft moan from the back of her throat. She could feel his ardor pressing against her stomach.

The snap of a twig echoed through the gazebo and Loki pulled away quickly. Instinctively turning towards the sounds, Yevanna saw one of the women she had been introduced to the night before. Sigyn might have been her name. She looked quite embarrassed.

"I do apologize, your highnesses." She curtsied and retreated around the corner.

Yevanna was going to laugh, but one look at Loki's serious, stormy expression made the laughter die in her throat.

"Yevanna, I've just remembered I was meant to meet with Baldur and Thor exactly now. Please allow me to escort you back to your room." His voice was clipped and tight; she thought he might have been lying to her.

"It's quite alright. Please, just show me out of this maze and I'll be fine on my own."

He nodded absently, as if he hadn't really heard what she was saying, and took off. Yevanna had to practically run to keep up with his long strides.

* * *

Loki sat in his chambers the next night, poring over old maps of the Jotun capital, Utgard. If he was going to get Yevanna within earshot of something important, he had to first discover where they were most likely to overhear something important. The fortress itself was rudimentary: a single keep and a few outbuildings surrounded by walls. He assumed a few days of careful observations would be necessary before they attempted to overhear anything. He did not relish living in the Jotun wilderness for long, but he would do what he had to do.

A soft knock on his door alerted him to the fact that his solitude was about to be broken. He looked up expecting to Thor or maybe his mother, instead was greeted with the sight of Yevanna. She appeared to be holding something behind her back.

"Am I interrupting you?" She questioned earnestly.

"Yes, but come in anyway," he said, setting the map down.

She walked towards him, a smile playing on her lips at his words. Reaching the edge of his desk, she stood next to him, leaning against the dark wood. Moving her hand from behind her back she presented him with a bright red apple. "You weren't at dinner. I thought maybe you might be hungry."

She set the fruit down and peered at the papers strew about his desk. "With what have you been busying yourself?"

He smiled at her curiosity. "Preparing for our journey, actually. Here," he handed her the map he had been looking at. "This is the fortress at Utgard. I was trying to find a way for us to sneak inside."

She nodded, taking to from him. "I could always scale the walls."

He raised his eyebrow. "You do realize that the walls are probably almost completely smooth, if not from ice than certainly from weathering."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you have such little faith in me? Did I not tell you I spent my entire childhood climbing things? Trust me, I can climb this tower."

Her voice was playful, but he could tell she was a little insulted. He captured her hand in both of his and brought to his lips. "Please forgive me, darling. I shall never doubt you again."

She laughed. "Well, good."

"I had, however, hoped to accompany you into the castle. I thought perhaps I might put my magic to use and make us invisible."

"Yes, that's an excellent idea."

Loki smiled to himself. As they lapsed into a comfortable silence, he couldn't help but fixate on how close she was to him. He was pleased to see that she was warming up to him and the idea of being his wife. Given her reaction back in Alfheimr, he wasn't sure she would ever be completely at ease with him. He knew he made her uncomfortable sometimes, especially when he took liberties with physical affection. The mischievous part of him enjoyed watching her squirm, but he had to admit to himself that that wasn't the main reason he did so. He was attracted to her in a way no other woman had caught his fancy. He thought, perhaps, it was her intelligence and the way she so easily seemed to if not understand him, certainly empathize. That was strange and new to him. And the way she had taken the initiative to kiss him the other day...that certainly was new as well. Not that he took quarrel with it, quite the opposite; he hoped she would continue to be more expressive in the future.

Yevanna set the map down and held out her hand. "Come get some air with me."

Obligingly he stood, allowing her to lead him to the balcony. He casually leaned against the railing, arms cross and a smirk on his lips. She spun around, arms in the air; the wind whipped her hair into her face, but he could still see her smile.

"Isn't this lovely? I envy the amount of shoot stars you can see from up here."

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he gently pulled her towards him. "Was there a particular reason you enticed me away from my work? Or do you enjoy driving me mad?"

Yevanna laughed as she tried, unsuccessfully, to wriggle out his embrace. "How do _I _drive _you_ mad, pray tell?"

"By doing exactly what you are doing right now," his voice was low and husky.

She stopped moving and stared up at him, light blue eyes wide with surprise, and perhaps, something else. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "What do you mean?"

He let a grin spread over his lips, enjoying the hitch in her breathing it brought. He cupped her face, allowing his thumb to caress her high cheekbone. "You intoxicate me with desire," he whispered. "You drive me mad with it. I wish nothing more than to allow my lips to explore every inch of you."

It was undeniably true. He had finally given up wrestling with himself over the fact, and how he greatly enjoyed watching her reaction to his revelation.

A scarlet blush came to cheeks, the first one, he thought, that he had ever seen so dark. "You should not speak of such things so frankly."

Her voice was an octave higher than usual but he could tell by her breathing and the beat of her heart that it wasn't just social norms which brought her reproach.

"Do not fear, Yeva. I shan't act on those desires until you wish me to. Until then, I shall have to be content with stolen kisses and dreams of the night when you welcome me to your bed."

* * *

Two days later, Yevanna had hardly seen Loki, though they were to depart for Jotunheim in a few hours. He had skipped most of the formal dinners, instead sending a message to his mother than he would be eating in his room. She supposed he was preparing for their scouting mission, though in truth she did not mind too much. She was comforted by the fact that he was only one room away, and really, she wanted some time to ponder what he told her on the balcony. She thought the thing that frightened her the most was the fact that he awakened similar desires in her. They were overwhelming for her; she had spend most of her life assuming a future free of intimacy was before her, and now…well, she didn't know _what_, exactly. Still, Loki's confession had piqued her interest. Had he ever bedded a woman before? She assumed he had, going by Thor's general behavior, though perhaps that wasn't fair. She tried not to let the thought bother her; she did not want to one of those women who jealously obsessed over her husband's past trysts. Still, elf culture dictated sexual intercourse was tantamount to marriage, though that also wasn't fair to Loki. He wasn't an elf. She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts, all this thinking was counterproductive. She had no idea if he'd every been with a woman but until she was able to discuss the topic with him like the adults they both were, it wasn't worth the anxiety.

While Loki had busied himself planning their journey, something he obviously enjoyed, she had kept herself busy training with Theo. If her army arrived while she was Jotunheim, she needed to equip him will all the necessary information for taking over while she was gone. Besides that she had also been spending more time with Sif. The other warrior woman had showed her the practice yard, armory, and much to her delight, the library. Yevanna had wanted to brush up on her knowledge of Jotuns and their home realm.

Yevanna glanced in the mirror quickly before she headed for the door. In light of her destination, she had chosen grey trousers, soft-soled charcoal boots, and nondescript grey cloak over a similar tunic. In an effort to hide her attention attracting hair, she had bound it up to her head and pinned her hood in place. She hoped that would be enough to blend in with her surroundings. Eld was fastened at her hip, though she would hesitate to use it; the flame would attract more trouble that it was probably worth, but she couldn't bear to leave without it. Otherwise she had a number of daggers hid about her person: one up her sleeve, one in each boot, and another strapped to her inner thigh. She hoped she wouldn't have to use them, but she'd rather be overly cautious than dead.

She made her way to the basement of the palace, past the cellars, larders, and prisons, to the very bedrock on which it was built. No one outside the royal family, herself, and Baldric knew of this mission, as Odin thought discretion was always best. She had to agree with him. She slowly made her way down a slick set of stairs carved into the bedrock and entered into a chamber, lit by a single torch. Everyone else was already there. She bowed her head to the Allfather and tried not to let her gaze stray to Loki for too long, though she noted he was dressed plainly, his dark cloak covering all but his boots and a few inches of his black trousers.

"I trust you all know the seriousness of this mission. Try not to make your presence known: only kill if you must. Above all retrieving the information is paramount."

She and Loki nodded and they turned to Baldric. The dwarf drew the torch from the wall and walked over to the far wall of rock. Laying his hand on the cold stone as one would caress a lover, he whispered low, too low even for Yevanna to hear. A deep rumbling that she more felt than heard reverberated through the chamber as the rock slowly ground apart; a narrow passageway was revealed beyond.

They exchanged glances and she was happy to see the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"This cave will lead to a larger one that connects to the base of the Yggdrasil. From there you'll follow the ice cave to Jotunheim. It should surface a mile or two away from Utgrad. I'll leave this passage open for at most a week. After that you'll have to find your own way back to Asgard."

Yevanna smiled at him, trying to make the impression that not all elves were heartless. "Thank you, Baldric, we will try to be swift."

His expression softened slightly. "Yeah, well be careful in there. There are monsters crawling all over the place. Nasty beasties that are smart enough to kill you slowly."

Baldric handed the torch to Loki and they stepped through the portal.

* * *

**So what did you all think? Things certainly seem to be heating, _if you know what I mean _;). I actually got massive inspiration for the second half of the plot from writing this chapter (I usually have a general idea / outline, but sometimes my muse smacks me with a good idea out of nowhere). So, on the plus side, I'm slowly figuring out how this story is going to end (not that we're anywhere near that). Anyhoo, there were a ton of characters introduced in this chapter, all of which come from Norse mythology, so I'll not bother with the literary lecture :D. **

**I'd like to give a special thanks to MaeveMonster, NoName1997, and Simbelia for their lovely reviews. Further, thank you to everyone who added this story to their alerts / favorite list. I always grin like an idiot when I get email about reviews / favorites / alerts. **

**Questions, Comments, Criticism? Please Review or PM. **

**P.S. How many of you have a tumblr? I just got one (trying to figure it out) and I'm quickly become addicted. My name is Queen-of-the-Procrastination, if you're interested. It's mostly fandom and funny history stuff, but I did make a drinking game for the Papal Conclave coming up (every other election has one, why not this one? lol).**


	13. Chapter 13: Time to Go!

**Hello Ladies (and Gentlemen?)! Here is chapter thirteen! I hope you enjoy it! This chapter is a little shorter than they usually are, but I think you'll agree that it was a pretty good spot to pause. ;) **

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Time to Go!

Yevanna walked silently behind Loki, Baldric's last words echoing in her head. Her body was tense with senses finely attuned to any notice that they might not be alone. The stone tunnel was cool, damp, and, save for their torch, lit by softly glowing blue lichens. She wondered how long it would meander through the belly of the world before they found the World Tree.

"Loki, we should put the torch out," she whispered, her voice echoed and reverberated off of the walls before it was swallowed in the darkness ahead.

He paused a moment, before tossing it into one of the many puddles at their feet. She was glad she didn't have to explain the concept of "if you can see it, it can see you" to him. She certainly would have if she was with Beowulf. Yevanna frowned, think of her cousin. Had Theoderic sent him to Melisende for justice? Had he been executed? Or was he just rotting in her father's dungeon? She made a mental note to ask Loki exactly what had taken place in the Eastern Shore; perhaps he knew.

She rolled her shoulders back and shoved the dark thoughts of her cousin to the back of her mind. Right now she needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Was it just her imagination or was the tunnel getting brighter? It was, but very gradually. After what seemed like hours, though she really had no idea how long it had been, the mouth of a cave became visible. They emerged into a truly massive cavern, larger even than Odin's great hall, that was choked with milky white roots the size of houses. At the very center towered a tree trunk so thick it would have been impossible for ten giant to encircle it with their arms. The roots radiated out in a million different directions, the biggest ones trailing into new tunnels. It went up and up and up seemingly without end.

The hair at the nape of her neck pricked and she gazed around for the source of her discomfort. Before she could locate this anxiety herself, Loki pointed to a large white lump at the base of the tree. At first she thought it was just another root, but then her eyes slowly picked out the fine lines of scales and a curve of its head: Nidhogg the dragon that gnawed at Yggdrasil. It seemed to be sleeping.

Yevanna and Loki exchanged glances, silently agreeing it was best to proceed as quietly as possibly, least they wake the beast.

Scanning the different tunnels, she started to see subtle differences. One to their right gave off a warm flicker of light; its neighbor was dark and misty. The tunnel directly across from them gave Yevanna a start. Its warm green light called to her; that must be the way to Alfheimr. Next to it, however, was a cave with icicles dripping from the ceiling and frost spreading like fingers across its mouth. She pointed to cave; Loki nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

Yevanna stepped silently into the vast main chamber, careful to not let her clothes rustle. Loki followed nearly as quietly after her but not before he left a shimmering glyph burned with magic onto the front of the passage leading back to Asgard. Carefully, and always with one eye trained on Nidhogg, they made their way slowly around the cave.

The Jotunheim passage was cool and Yevanna had a feeling it would only get colder. Not that she minded, particularly. Elves were more or less immune to all but the most drastic of temperatures and she assumed Loki would be as well. They silently made their way down the passage, with only the disappearing light to mark the passing of time. The wind started to pick up, whipping and howling down the narrow stone corridor. It appeared Jotunheim was in the midst of a blizzard. _Fantastic_. The cold might not be bothersome, but the flurries of snow and screeching of the wind would certainly hinder visibility and hearing.

The incredible vastness, white and unforgiving, struck Yevanna as they emerged from the mouth of the cave. The ground was white, the sky gray and besides a few rocks there did not seem to be much else. She squinted hard across the blurry horizon, and after a few moments was just able to pick out a looming gray shadow a few leagues away: Utgard.

"Well this is cheery," Loki remarked casually.

She glanced at him out the corner of her eyes and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"I wouldn't want to build a winter home here or anything, but it's not as bad as expected."

She shook her head, "it makes me feel depressed; there's not a tree in sight, nothing green or living. What in Valhalla's name do the Jotun eat?" After a pause, "right, so how are we getting close enough to sneak into the keep? There's no natural cover."

When she didn't get a response, Yevanna turned to Loki, wondering what had caught his attention. Much to her surprise, however, he was gone.

"Loki?" She spun around, looking for a sign of him; he couldn't have just disappeared into thin air.

Suddenly, something cold and wet smacked into the back of her head. She whipped around, eyes blazing. "Loki, this isn't funny!"

"Ehehehehe," his telltale laugh drifted over her from across the snow and she jerked her head towards the sound.

Looking closely at the ground, Yevanna could just discern the faintest footsteps in the snow. She let her eyes follow them to their end point. He must be able to become invisible; that would actually explain some of their earlier interactions, specifically how he managed to sneak up on her so much. Fine, two could play at his game. Quickly she turned about and started to march towards Utgard, confident that he would follow. Paying close attention to the sounds around her, she waited until she could hear the crunch of snow from his steps before bending down to tie her boot lace. Yevanna heard Loki stop walking, at which point she scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at where she assumed his face was.

"Ugh! You little minx!" He cried as she hit her mark, the slush comically floating in midair.

She laughed and dashed away, trying to avoid being hit by a snowball again. She got about ten feet away, when she stopped and looked back, wondering if he was following her. Truly him being invisible put her at a disadvantage, especially in a snow storm. She couldn't see him, or any of his footsteps. Facing forward, Loki was right in front of her. She jumped.

"Did I frighten you, darling?" He smirked as he spoke.

Instead of dignifying his question with an answer, Yevanna pushed him. Unfortunately for her, he grabbed her upper arms just before he tumbled backwards, sending them both flying down the nearby slope.

With an audible 'umf,' they landed in a rather deep snow drift fairly far down the hill. Snow seeped through her clothing and down her spine as the weight of his body pressed her into the snow from above.

"Dammit, you weigh as much as a small horse! Get off of me," she muttered into his shoulder.

With a chuckle, Loki sat up a little, but remained straddling her hips. He surveyed her with a smirk. "I rather like the way you look down there, I think I'll stay where I am."

She reached up her hands to push at his chest but he easily captured them, pinning her arms by her head.

"No, no. Did your father not teach you pushing is impolite?" Loki whispered in her ear.

She stuck her tongue out at him in response. Yevanna started wiggling, trying to escape his strong grip, a small smile still playing on her lips; he was incorrigible. "Seriously, get off of me; we have other business to attend to right now."

His sharp intake of breath alerted her to the fact that perhaps vigorously moving her body while underneath him wasn't the best idea. Yevanna's blue eyes met Loki's green ones and he let go of her hands to gently push behind her ear a few strands of hair that had come forward in their fall.

"I wouldn't do that if you actually want me to get off of you," he whispered, his voice husky.

She propped herself up on her elbows, moving their faces closer together. Yevanna could see the desire in his eyes and feel it in the tension of his body. She had to admit to herself that she was having a similar reaction to their proximity; a warm sensation coiling was in her belly and spreading outward, making it difficult to concentrate at the task at hand. Loki pressed his forehead to hers and perhaps he might have kissed her, there in the frozen wastes of Jotunheim had not the creak of snow alerted them to the fact that they were not alone.

Yevanna turned her head sharply to the side, eyes wide as she surveyed a group of Frost Giants not ten feet away from them. Luckily, the giants were on the hill she and Loki had just fallen down; they couldn't be seen from that vantage point. Or at least, she hoped they couldn't.

Loki moved his right hand in an intricate swishing movement and a few secondly later the Jotuns turned their attention behind them, eventually walking away.

Yevanna let out a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she was holding. Loki slowly stood up, glancing around to make sure the giants were really gone. He held out his hand to her. When she took it, he pulled her up, but didn't let go.

"If you hold on to me, I can make us both invisible. Should make spying easier, yes?"

Slowly, with fingers laced together, they walked forward into the howling wind towards their destination.

* * *

_King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi to Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shore, daughter of Lothar, son of Elberth, daughter of Fingole:_

_Niece,_

_It is with deep regret and great woe that I am writing you today. My wife's nephew, Beowulf, has confessed to the great crime of slaying your beloved and noble brother, Lord Ibelin. It appears he did so in a fit of madness. His trial will commence in a fortnight and I am confident that the verdict will be to your pleasure. Rest assured I will find you justice. _

_ Your Uncle, _

_ King Theoderic, son of Fingole_

* * *

_Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shore, daughter of Lothar, son of Elberth, daughter of Fingole, to King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi,_

_Uncle,_

_ The sadness my brother's death has brought me is a little abated at the glad tidings that his vicious murderer has been caught. While I do trust you, of course, to deliver swift justice, I—and my people—would wish to see the traitor's trial take place here. I trust you will indulge me in this matter. _

_ Your Niece,_

_ Melisende_

* * *

_King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi to Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shore, daughter of Lothar, son of Elberth, daughter of Fingole:_

_Niece,_

_ While I do wish to assuage your pain by seeing justice done, I cannot, in good faith, allow Beowulf outside of my realm. He can be charismatic and crafty; I do not wish for anything to impede his punishment. If you wish, I will send you his head to mount above your gate._

_Your Uncle, _

_ King Theoderic, son of Fingole_

* * *

_Princess Melisende of the Eastern Shore, daughter of Lothar, son of Elberth, daughter of Fingole, to King Theoderic of the Western Woods, son of Fingole, son of Yngvi,_

_Uncle,_

_ Then, with your acquiescence, I will venture to your realm to view the trial myself. _

_ Your Niece,_

_ Melisende_

Theoderic, sighed, weary at the correspondence with Melisende. Dread filled the horizon and he worried what this misadventure would bring. Still, she needed to be indulged; after he had assured her that none in his realm had been responsible for her brother's death, it turned out that his own nephew was the murderer. Worse still, the boy was delusional and this madness threatened Theoderic's own heir with implication of guilt. Yes, it was best to appease Melisende as much as he possibly could, though he did not much like the thought of her coming to his kingdom. It left an ill feeling with him.

Writing a quick reply, he handed the seal parchment to the nearby page and directed him to leave for the Eastern Shore at once. He sent a second page to start making preparations for another royal visit.

* * *

The woman cautiously walked into the clearing, looking to either side; she did not want to be interrupted. Her companion stood in the middle of the grassy space, the soft rustle of her silk gown alerted him to her presence and he turned.

"My dear, I was not sure if you would decide to grace me with your presence or not. I'm glad you decide to after all."

"Your letter spoke of a proposition to my liking, I must admit, I was intrigued." She whispered back, too aware of the ears and eyes often lurking in the greenery.

He smiled though it did not reach his eyes. "I know what you want, and I am in a position to…shall we say, clear the way for you."

She paused, considering his words, wondering if their vagueness masked the truth of the matter. "That's a rather easy thing to claim; much harder, I think, to follow through on the offer."

He shrugged. "It's really not the difficult. She's in your way, and I am in a position to clear the way for you."

"But why do you want to help me?" She wouldn't trust him until she could see his benefit in the scheme.

"Let's just say it suites my larger goals to have him distracted. He's a smart one, and he's getting close to the crux of the matter."

"I see," and, for once, she actually did. "But I am assuming I'll be granted immunity at the end of all things?"

"If that is what you wish…then yes. Your price for help is him and immunity? That I can certainly guarantee."

She nodded. "Then you have an ally."

"A kiss, then, to seal the deal, my lady." He murmured, tilting her chin up and crashing his lips down on hers.

He tasted of hate, malice, and woe.

* * *

Loki paused at the corner of a passageway, his hand still clasping Yevanna's tightly. They had easily slipped into Utgard by following the group of Jotuns that had almost discovered them earlier. It had been child's play to traipse invisibly through the frozen halls, completely undetected by the dull witted frost giants. The only trick now was to gain access to the king's chambers at the heart of the keep. While Jotuns in general seemed rather stupid, King Laufey would have sense enough to keep his personal items protected with guards. Loki could make himself and Yevanna invisible and muffle their steps and voices, but even the most dimwitted of guards would notice a door opening on its own. Their best bet was to wait, though given that they only had a limited time until Baldric closed the passage back to Asgard, he didn't much relish the thought of casually waiting around in the heart of Jotunheim.

They were near Laufey's chamber, if his schematics of Utgard had been correct. There was certainly a lot of activity suggesting that they were near the important part of the castle. Yevanna tugged on his hand and he turned to face her.

"Why don't we split up?" She whispered.

Loki frowned, unsure if that was the smartest course of action. "You won't be invisible if I let you go."

"I don't need to be invisible; create me a distraction, I'll be faster on my own."

He didn't want to let her go; too many things could go wrong and he wouldn't be there to control the situation. But her senses were keener; maybe Yevanna didn't have such a bad idea.

"Alright, stay to the shadows until you see the guards leave," he order.

She rolled her eyes at him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "This isn't my first spy mission, Loki. I don't need magic to remain unseen."

Reluctantly he let go of her hand and hurried down the corridor, looking back over his shoulder only to see that Yevanna had truly disappeared into the shadows. If the guards had seen her flicker into sight for a minute, they gave no indication.

The kitchens were easy to get too. Luckily too, because it meant his maps had been more or less accurate. Slipping into the only warm part of the building, he headed straight for the cavernous fireplace at the end of the room. It was big enough to roast a small mammoth in, thus answering Yeva's early question about what frost giants ate. The flames were currently low; a number of stews were simmering on a low slung iron bar.

Loki liked fire. It was chaos, pure and simple. No one could control a fire once it was really going, not really. As long as he kept that in mind, he had nothing to fear from it and much to gain. He filched a handful of simple ingredients from the cleaning shelf and coaxed the flames a little higher with his fingers. A blue-skinned serving wench turned to look at the fire pit in response to the temperature change, but couldn't see anything amiss. She turned back to her cutting board.

Loki nicked a cooking pot from another shelf and threw the assortment of powders and leaves into it. Gingerly he placed it on the iron bar, careful not to let the metals _chink_ together. He slipped into the far doorway and with a twitch of his fingers raised the fire even higher.

And then he _ran_ like his life depended on it.

* * *

Yevanna crouched deep in the shadows of the hallway, waiting. It had been, perhaps, ten minutes since Loki has slipped away and she was wondering how long it was going to take him.

As if to answer her question, the roar of an explosion ripped through the very stones of the building. She smiled. Apparently her finance wasn't too bad with distractions.

The jotuns standing in front of the king's chambers exchanged glances before dashing towards the origin of the commotion. Yevanna hesitated a moment, waiting until they were far down the hallway and around the corner. Lucky for her too, because a split second before she would have moved out of the shadows, the chamber doors opened. Out stepped the biggest frost giant she had ever seen. He was terrible to behold with black lines swirling down his skin and thick ridges on his head instead of hair. When is blood red eyes fixed on her in the shadows, her heart stopped and for the first time in her life Yevanna could say she knew fear.

She would never know if Laufey had seen her hiding in the darkness or not, because a second explosion drew his attention away. Yeva took the opportunity to slip into the king's chambers. They were dark, cold, and fairly bare. A fur covered bed was shoved in the corner and a desk perched in front of an empty fireplace. She headed for it, making sure to keep her footfalls light. Her breath clouded in front of her; it was even colder in here than out in the passageway.

There were few papers on the desk's surface and the drawers were locked. Pulling a pin from her hair and kneeling, she fiddled with the lock on the top right drawer. It sprung open easily at her coaxing; a quick glance at the contents showed little but tax and rent records. She moved on to the next one and the next. By the time she reached the last, she was frustrated and she could hear footsteps headed down the corridor. She knew she didn't have much time. With a sigh of relief the drawer slid open, but much to her dismay there was nothing in it but an intricately carved, tiny ebony box. The footsteps were getting closer; Yevanna grabbed the box and rolled under the bed as Laufey reentered his room, hissing at his guards.

"If you ever leave your posts again without orders, I will have your feet chopped off."

_Fuck. How in the name of the Allfather I am going to get out of _this_ predicament_?

Laufey slammed the door and paused, simply standing in the room. His shoulder's stiffened and Yevanna held her breath as her eyes followed his gaze to the open desk drawer. How could she have been so stupid to leave it open? Laufey sniffed the air.

"Ahh…elf! Come out and play little girl. I know you're here, I can smell the summer sun on your skin and the green of the forest in your hair," his voice was low and gravely.

Yevanna shrank back against the wall, hoping the dirty furs on top of the bed hid her scent enough for him not to zero in on her. Not that there was anywhere else to hide in the spartan room, but just maybe he'd think she had already left. She saw his feet approach the bed and pause. Her heart was pounding in her temples and throat; surely it would give her away. After a moment his feet left her line of sight. A sigh of relief escaped her lips.

A cold hand clamped around her ankle, dragging her out from under the bed. Yevanna shrieked and twisted her body, trying to fight back. She swiped her nails across his cheek, drawing blood.

The doors flew open and his guards ran in at the sound of her screams. They stopped, watching the scene in front of them. Laufey hissed and yanked on a fist full of her hair, ripping it out of the pins and holding her still against him. His other hand held her wrists behind her back. The cold rolled off of his body; Yevanna could withstand cold to an extent, but this was something else entirely. The frost ate into her skin like sharp little knives as the king of the frost giants stared at her dispassionately. She stared back, not really seeing him. Instead her mind was flying trying to think of her best exit strategy. Where the Hel was Loki? Perhaps splitting up hadn't been the best idea.

"My my, what a pretty little thing you are. Hair like fire. And what's this? Ice on your lips and in your heart? _Interesting._"

"Go to HEL!" She snarled, bashing her knee into his crotch. _Always effective! _

Laufey doubled over in pain and Yevanna took the opportunity to slam her elbow down on the back of his exposed neck, dropping him to the floor. Turning, she kicked the closest guard square in the chest sending him reeling backwards; it gave her just enough time to pull the dagger out of her sleeve and slice the throat of the second as he rushed her. Bluish purple blood, so cold it burned, spattered over her face, blinding her momentarily. She stumbled backwards into the glacial embrace of the first guard who had since regained his balance. Yevanna struggled, but his arms were like iron. Laufey, who had regained his composure, stalked towards her with fury burning in his eyes.

A streak of silver whizzed past Yeva's head, ruffling her hair slightly, and the guard fell to the stone floor, dead. Laufey's head snapped behind him, to where Loki was crouched in the open window, readying another throwing dagger.

Yevanna kicked the back of Laufey's knees, sending him sprawling again, and ran towards Loki.

"Time to go!" She cried as she jumped out the window.

Loki grabbed her forearm and swung her up in one swift movement. She latched onto the crenelation of the keep and pulled herself onto the roof. Loki followed a moment later, capturing her hand in his as they winked out of sight. Gazing out across the keep it looked as if Loki had set half the castle on fire; smoke billowed out from both the kitchens and the stables. Jotun servants scurried around trying to put out the flames, or at least contain them. Others tried to round out the terrified horses.

Guards swarmed the roof and battlements of the keep, unsure of where the intruders had gone, but certain that they were up here. Loki pressed them deep into the entrance of a guard tower, wrapping his arms around her. They were corner and Yevanna could not see a way out.

"I am never letting you out of my sight again," he whispered angrily into her ear.

Laufey burst through the line of guards who were haphazardly searching for them. The rage was evident on his face as he growled and hissed: "I smell the blood of an Odinson. You can't hide. I'll find you and when I do, I'll send you back to the Allfather in pieces."

* * *

**So, m****y finals are next week, you know what that means? I'll actually have time to write soon! It's summer vacation! Woohoo! I'm so excited to just sit around and do nothing but, read, write, and watch netflix (well, and work but that's a non-issue). I don't think there's any cultural notes for this chapter, although there is a Princess Bride reference :)**

******There are so many lovely people to thank for reviews this time around! I was so touched by all of your comments and I really appreciate the constructive feedback! Simbelia, Momento, HarryPotterFreakie, Elizabeth, AliceofCards, the "Guest" who reviewed practically every chapter, AvalontheLadyKiller, and Casey. I tried to PM each of you back, but if I didn't it was because you weren't signed into an account.**

******A further thanks to everyone who added this story or me to your alert / favorite list!**

******Questions, Comments, Criticism? Please Review or PM.**


	14. Chapter 14: I lied

Chapter 14: I Lied

Yevanna could hear her heart pounding in her ears, her eyes frantically searching the small watch tower where they were currently hiding. Loki held her to him in a bone crushing embrace.

"Search the guard towers!" Laufey commanded from just outside their hiding spot.

Loki pressed her harder against the wall; as though if he just pushed hard enough they could disappear into the stone. Still it was better to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Fur clad Jotun guards ambled into the room and looked around. One sniffed the air. Yevanna held her breath, afraid that even the movement of air in and out of her body would alert the enemies to their presence. Loki had made them invisible but if the frost giants touched them it would be all over. Sure, they could fight for a while, but the odds didn't look good. There were only two of them and countless enemies; they would be overwhelmed eventually.

The guards slowly walked around the tower, poking at boxes and behind tables; anything that might be a useful hiding place. They walked around the room, coming ever closer to the cleft between the doorway and the circular walls where she and Loki were currently hunched together. One of the frost giants was standing right in front of them, searching the corner. Yevanna worried that Loki's magic wasn't doing its job; what if they could be seen? It reached out a hand, swiping at the air. It missed Loki's back by a hair's breath.

The sharp bark of an order brought the guards attention back outside. As they ran out, Yevanna let out a sigh of relief. Loki took a step back, allowing her more room but still kept a hand at her hip. She realized she had the front of his shirt in a death grip. She concentrated hard, willing her fingers to relax and let go.

"Check the grounds, perhaps they fell to their deaths."

The sound of Laufey's orders being obeyed met her ears; the crunch of boots on stone as the soldiers marched away was the sweetest music Yevanna had ever heard. Cautiously, Loki peered around the doorway.

"They're gone for now, but they left four to watch the roof. If we're going to leave, it will have to be fast," his voice was clipped and hard.

She sighed; he was angry at her, no doubt, for suggesting that they split up. Although she didn't think that was quite fair as it was impossible to say how things would have gone if they had stuck together. She sat down on the cold ground, suddenly very tired. Her knees were scraped from being dragged across Laufey's floor and her face ached.

"It's going to be dark soon, why don't we wait until then?" She murmured.

Loki nodded and sat down next to her, one leg bent and the other extended outward. One arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. What a mood change—one second he had been furious and the next he was clinging to her. She sighed and rubbed her face, what a strange man.

He turned to her, "you're covered in blood, you know."

Without waiting for her response, he pulled out his handkerchief and started wiping her forehead clean. Normally she would hate being treated like this, like she couldn't just do it herself, but right now all she wanted to do was sleep. So she let him take care of her.

"Ow!" She winced as he started rubbing the left side of her face.

"Hold still, the blood won't come off," he ordered.

After a moment, Loki stopped what he was doing and grabbed her chin, turning her face into the dying light. His thinly veiled look of horror made her heart sink.

"Loki, what's wrong?" She whispered, afraid to find out.

In response, he pulled a small signal mirror out of his pocket and held it out to her. She took it, though her hands were shaking. Cautiously, she peered into the glass.

The mirror shattered when she dropped it to the floor, slapping her hands over her mouth to muffle her cries. The left side of her face was a purple knot of raised veins and angry flesh, even if the swelling were to die down, her face would still be ruined. Tears pricked at her eyes but she fought them; she never cried and she certainly didn't want to start doing so over her looks. She looked at Loki and thought of the way he had looked at her when he first cleared away the blood. Would he still want to marry her if her face was destroyed? The thought that he wouldn't stabbed through her heart like ice.

"How…what happened?" He asked, for once at a loss of words.

She shook her head. "I don't know…I don't. I mean, I cut one of the guard's throats and his blood sprayed me in the face. Is this what Jotun blood does to elvish skin?"

Loki reached for her and shifted her onto his lap.

"Let me see," he commanded.

She turned her face to him, but wouldn't meet his eyes. It wasn't vanity that made her so horrified at what happened, well maybe just a little. In reality her looks were the reason so many of her father's people were willing to follow her. Elves, especially the peasant classes, were great believes in the idea that outer beauty reflected inner goodness. If she were permanently scared like this, she would be intimidating; she wouldn't inspire love, but fear.

Loki caressed her cheek, muttering under his breath. She flinched, partially from the pain and partially from shame. In response he gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place.

"Don't move; I'm trying to heal you," he snapped.

_Like you know anything about healing magic_. She was glad she didn't say it out loud, realizing a second later how unkind that had sounded.

His long, elegant fingers traced her face, running over the veins and raised flesh. Slowly the pain receded and the heat left her cheek. If it didn't hurt so much, she probably would have found his touch sensual. Loki paused a moment, looking at his work critically.

"That will have to do," he sighed.

Twirling his hand over the shattered mirror, it knit itself back together. He held it up to her. Her face looked normal at first glance, but Yevanna twisted so that her cheek caught the light. It was true he had done a lot; the swelling was gone, as was the angry purple color and the raised veins. Instead, she had a fine web of pearly scars, razor thin spreading across her face. She looked a little like a porcelain doll that had been dropped on its head. Tentatively, she touched her cheek; the skin was cold to the touch and tender.

"We should leave," she murmured, not wanting to dwell on her ravaged skin.

Loki nodded in agreement and stood. She took his proffered hand, pulling herself up, trying to keep her thoughts at bay. For a moment it looked as if he was going to say something, then he thought better of it. Hand in hand, they slowly slipped out of the tower and into the twilight. The guards still on the roof had their backs to them. Loki pointed to a steep staircase along the battlements.

Just as they were about to start their descent, another four guards appeared at the bottom of the stairs; perhaps to relieve the ones currently on the roof. Loki pulled her back against the battlements and the frost giants passed within inches of them. Her heart sank as none of the Jotun made any attempt to leave. So, Laufey had possibly realized he had been tricked and was sending reinforcements to the roof? Yevanna felt like every decision she had made during this journey had been the wrong one. Eight to two, not exactly good odds if they were discovered. The frost giants stood in the middle of the courtyard, all facing out, looking for movement.

The rough stone of the castle wall dug into her flesh. She looked at Loki, who was scanning their surroundings for a way out. He seemed tired and she wonder how boundless, or rather not, his magic was. Was he draining his store? How much longer did they have?

Yevanna leaned over the battlements and looked down; the snow banks reached high up the walls. Well, there was that option. She tugged on Loki's hand, not wishing to speak out loud for fear of discovery. He turned to her, eyes wide, as she scrambled up the crenellation.

"What are you doing?" He hissed.

She looked back at him, still holding his hand to stay invisible.

"Trust me."

With that, she let go of him and jumped. As she tumbled through the air, she though she heard Loki curse and definitely heard a guard shout when she twinkled into sight. Softly, she landed in the snow bank on the other side. A moment later, Loki landed next to her and slung his arm around her waist, pulling her into his invisibility just as the guards looked over the edge.

"Fucking Hel, woman. You're going to be the death of me."

* * *

The cave that they settled in was, perhaps, too close to Utgard for Loki's comfort. However, he was so spent from keeping constant invisibility and muffling enchantments up all day, not to mention all the other magic, that he really couldn't find it in himself to care. Besides, he had more important things to worry about, such as the mental state of his betrothed.

They were sitting deep within the cave; far away from the mouth so their fire couldn't be seen (Loki had ventured outside to verify that). Yevanna sat a little away from him, staring into the flames. Her knees were drawn up to her chin and she rested her cheek—that cheek—against them, hiding it from view. She hadn't said much to him all night. For once, Loki was at a loss as to what he should do. He wasn't exactly the comforting sort and he knew this was a delicate situation; he could tell she was upset, but it was difficult to gauge just how upset. It didn't help that he was still angry; mad that she had talked him into splitting up, mad that she had gotten herself hurt. Angrier still at himself for not being able to protect her.

"Yeva?"

She looked up at him, slightly startled, "Yes?"

He paused, unsure of how to continue. He wanted badly to tell her he didn't care about the injury; she was still beautiful to him. Somehow, though, he doubted she would believe him just yet. He could feel the distance between them, cold and frozen and perhaps ever growing. He wanted desperately to fill it, to mend it, but he didn't know how.

"Did you find anything useful? I only was able to overhear a few conversations."

That seemed to bring her out of her deep thoughts. She rummaged around in her pocket for a moment before producing a small, black box. She handed it over.

"Just this."

Loki took the box and examined it slowly, turning it over in his hands. He could feel it humming with power, but couldn't seem to find the mechanism to open it. The carvings were exquisite and certainly not done by any frost giant. He tilted it towards the fire, trying to see the picture; it seemed to be a ball or some sort of sphere resting in a pond or lake. To his knowledge, Loki had never seen anything like it, but he would have to look through his books again. He handed it back to her. He said as much.

"You should try to get some sleep. We will have a long and arduous day tomorrow; I'm sure Laufey has realized by now that we're not dead."

She nodded and was asleep within a few minutes, curled up by the fire right where she had been sitting. Loki stayed awake for a while longer, content to stir the flames occasionally and just think. He felt as if there was a giant puzzle he should be putting together, but he just didn't have enough pieces. It was a truly infuriating feeling. The box was important, that he knew for sure. The Jotuns has no business with something like that, but from where and whom did they get it? If he knew what it was, what it held, maybe he would have more of an idea. Sadly, Loki could not every remember coming across something like that box in his years of research and study.

Loki sighed and massaged his temples. Perhaps he should take his own advice and get some sleep. He looked at Yevanna, who was lying on her stomach and frowning. Her cheek glimmered like ice in the low light. Loki knew laying next to her while they slept might not be the best idea—if she woke up in the middle of the night disoriented and an unknown person was touching her, well, she just might stab him. But Loki was cold; his magic was depleted and he was feeling the weather in a way her hadn't in centuries. Stretching out next to her on the hard ground, he tentatively wrapped his arm around her waist. She tensed for a moment in her sleep before relaxing into him. She felt nice, lying there in his arms: nice and warm and right.

He woke in the night's last dying moments. Their fire had gone out sometime during their sleep and Yevanna had shifted into his embrace, her face buried in his chest. He had been dreaming, though about what he couldn't quite recall. Yevanna had been part of it, though. And part of it had been very pleasant, though he couldn't shake the feeling that things had turned to terror. His body was, however, still stuck on the pleasant part of the dream. He groaned; trust his luck to get an erection at the most inconvenient time. It certainly didn't help that Yeva had her soft, warm body pressed against him and was sighing in her sleep.

He bit his lip and ever so slowly extracted himself from her arms. Judging from the few times he had mentioned sex to her, Yeva was not ready to wake up to _that _pressed against her stomach. Going outside and cooling down seemed to be the most practical, if not most pleasurable, remedy to his problem. Besides, they needed to figure out where they were going.

* * *

Yevanna gazed at her face in the gilded mirror and touched her uneven flesh tentatively. They had been back in Asgard for three days and try as she might, she could not shake her mood of paranoia. When she had woken up from the night spent in the cave, Loki had been gone. When he returned he claimed he had been searching for their path home, but she couldn't keep the nagging voice at the back of her head from whispering that he didn't want to be around her. They had gotten back to Asgard easily enough; the path was still open and Nidhogg sleeping once again—which seemed strange to her, but she didn't want to argue with good luck.

The council meeting had been a different story.

_"Are you telling us that Laufey saw you?" Aetius asked incredulously. _

_ Yevanna shifted uncomfortably under the pressure of the room's collective gaze. She hated the feeling of people looking at her; it didn't help that the first thing Baldric had said to her was 'what happened to your face?' From there on, it seemed like that was all anyone would look at. _

_ "Well, given that I possibly rendered him infertile, I'd say yes, he did see me," she snapped. _

_ "And were you seen, son?" Odin asked Loki, his tone menacing in its neutrality. _

_ "Perhaps for a second, while we were making out escape. However, Laufey could smell us, so I do not think it would have mattered either way."_

_ "I see. And did you uncover anything of import?" _

_ Yevanna pulled the small black box out of her pocket and, walking up the dais, handed it to the Allfather. "It was the only thing interesting in Laufey's chambers." _

_ Odin turned the box over in his hands, his gaze pensive. "Do you know what it is?"_

_ "No, I must admit I've never come across anything like it," Loki replied. "But I have a few sources that might prove enlightening." _

_ Odin nodded and returned it to Yevanna. "Anything else?"_

_ "From a few conversations I was able to overhear, I believe the Jotuns are working with someone within Asgard."_

_ There were audible gasps at Loki's words. Yevanna realized she had never asked Loki was he had found out; she had been too preoccupied with herself. But then again, it wasn't as if he had volunteered the information either. Was he purposely keeping things from her? _

_ After hours more of contested debate and little headway, the council broke up. Loki, without so much as a word to her, hurried back to his chambers. She trudged back, taking the longest route she could find. _

_ "Princess Yevanna!" _

_ Yeva stopped, and turned to see Sigyn hurrying down the hall. _

_ "Good evening! I'm sorry to chase you down like that," the girl was out of breath from running in her corseted dress. _

_ "It's quite alright. Is there something I can help you with?" _

_ Sigyn fell in step with her and linked their arms together. Yevanna was a little taken aback by the physical contact, but if that's what aesir ladies, did, far be it from her to not. _

_ "I was hoping to invite you to tea with me next week. The Queen's birthday is coming up shortly. I know Loki wouldn't think to remember it—things like that just slip his mind—" she laughed, "but all the handmaidens and Lady Sif usually help plan the festivities. I thought you might like to help us." _

_ "Oh, well of course. Thank you for thinking of me." _

_ "It's settled then. My chambers, tea time Thor's day next." _

_ Yevanna nodded and the other woman took her leave a few moments later. She had mostly spent the rest of her time in her chambers. Unwilling to leave unless necessary._

"You know you're being completely ridiculous, right?" She asked her reflection. "It's just a scar. Lots of warriors have them; look at Theo."

_Theo. Ugh_. That was another thing. Looking back on the way she had acted when he was injured made her feel worse. She had been such a patronizing jerk, vowing to _help _him. Forcing him to practice. Did she ever think to ask if that was what he wanted? Yevanna felt doubly awful because she was moping around when his injury infinitely more devastating.

She sighed and stood up, pacing through the dimly lit room. She needed to get out of her chambers. Yevanna ran a hand through her red hair and grimaced at its greasy texture. Perhaps a bath was in order. Though there was one in her room, decided to use the public baths nestled in the lower levels of the palace.

"After all, it is three in the morning. No one is likely to be there," she muttered to herself.

The baths were in vast marble chamber which was luckily, and apparently, empty. Yevanna softly stepped on the cold marble floor and looked across the empty expanse, her view slight obscured by the steam rising from the water before her. There were screened pools for the different sexes or just for individuals wanting more privacy. There was also a huge one out in the open for the more adventurous or exhibitionist. Fixing her sights on a sunken pool in the back corner which was partially obscured by a carved marble screen, she hurried across the room. She was beginning to perspire from the steam, her knee length white shift sticking to her pale skin.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, as the entire pool came into sight.

Loki cracked an eye open to gaze sidelong at her. He was currently relaxing in the water, arms and head resting against the lip of the pool. His usually slicked back hair was hanging around his face in a fluffy black cloud. The water lapped at his bare chest, drawing attention to his pale, hard muscles. She bit her lip; she had never seen him in such a state of undress before. At least he had some loose pants on that covered up to mid-thigh.

"Evening, darling," he crooned.

"Loki? How in Valhalla are you here at the just the time I decide to come?" She demanded.

"Just lucky, I guess."

Yevanna crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. _Lucky my ass._ She had been avoiding him, and maybe it wasn't fair, but she did not want to have that conversation right now. She just wanted to relax, but that would be impossible with him naked and gorgeous and right in front of her. Not to mentions he had been avoiding her too. How could she tell if he wanted her here? He probably didn't.

"Perhaps I should leave."

"NO!"

Loki was half out of the bath before she had even completely turned around. His hand clutched hers, his voice filled with desperation.

"I mean, please stay. I won't do anything untoward. I promise."

Loki gave her that full, bright smile that she so rarely saw.

"Okay. I mean, I suppose since you're wearing pants, it's not too scandalous."

* * *

Loki held Yevanna's hand as she slowly eased into the hot water. He mentally commanded himself not to stare too openly as her flimsy white shift absorbed the water and the fabric clung to her curves. She had been driving him absolutely _mad_ the past few days. Completely avoiding him, and when he did see her, she was icier than Jotunheim. He couldn't figure out what he had done wrong.

Yevanna sat near, but not quite close, to him. The steam from the water was obscuring all that her now see-through dress displayed. Lucky for her too, because he just might have ravished her there and then. She fiddled with a tendril of long red hair, which surrounded her like spilled ink, purposely avoiding looking at him.

"Yevanna?...Yeva look at me."

Her summer eyes met his and Loki was thankful to all the gods that he had ever heard of that his bathing pants were black and roomy so she couldn't see the mighty erection her gaze inspired. He didn't want to scare her off, after all; she'd been so skittish since returning from Jotunheim.

"You should not be so worried about seeing me naked," he teased. "After all, we are going to be wed soon. That tends to involve a certain amount of nudity. Not, obviously, in the ceremony."

Her cheeks flushed crimson and she turned away from him. "You shouldn't say such things."

"Why ever not? If you're not comfortable with the idea of me as your husband now, how will you ever be comfortable on our wedding night?"

As he spoke, he moved closer to her until their thighs here touching. Loki took it as a good sign that she didn't move away from him. Maybe teasing would draw her out of her shell. He hoped he could figure it out soon, because he hated seeing her so despondent.

"You still wish to marry me?"

Loki's mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted. "What in Hel's dark realm are you talking about?"

She flinched and he realized his tone was harsher than he meant. Gently, Loki captured her chin and turned her face towards him. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, silently willing her to meet his gaze.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" He questioned.

"You've been avoiding me!"

She tried to turn away from his touch, as the water from his hand ran in rivulets down the web of her cheek.

"What? I've been researching that damnable box you found! Not that it's come to any fruition," he slapped the water in frustration. "What is this absolute nonsense about me not wanting to marry you?"

"Never mind, it's stupid," she murmured.

Yevanna stood, trying to leave again. Well, he wasn't going to let her. He needed to understand what was going on in that sometimes crazy mind of hers. He gripped her arm, stopping her.

"No, stay. Talk to me. Please."

He wasn't used to asking nicely, but he would for her.

"Even since we've gotten back from Jotunheim, I feel as if you don't want me anymore. I mean, really, why would you? You took every opportunity to get away from me; the cave, after the council; I haven't seen you in days. Don't you want someone pretty, like Sif or Sigyn?"

Her words came out as a slur of emotion and sounds; Loki had to concentrate hard to understand her. Yevanna seemed dangerously close to crying.

"Yevanna, you silly girl. I woke up before you in the cave with a throbbing erection; I went outside to cool off, I didn't want to frighten you."

The delicious blush on her cheeks did nothing to discourage his current, throbbing erection.

"As for marrying someone else, surely you know Sif would sooner rip out my rib cage and wear it as a hat before letting me near her. I don't _want _her, or Sigyn or anyone but you. Why can't you see that?!"

She turned her head to the side, letting his words roll over her. She hadn't yet decided if she would believe him. The low light glimmered off of her pale skin and he sighed, finally understanding.

Starting with the corner of her mouth, he trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear, while his hand stroke the column of her neck. He liked the uneven texture of her flesh against his lips. Her hands rested on his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer, it seemed she had not yet decided.

"Darling," he whispered, capturing the lobe of her ear between his lips.

That got a reaction, her nails dug into his chest, possibly in shock, maybe something better.

"Darling, I don't care about that...Well, I do...obviously. What I mean to say is that I care that it upsets you," he retraced his trail of kisses and pulled away from her slightly.

Her eyes were dark and perhaps a little wet. She was chewing on her bottom lip.

"You are a warrior. Warriors have scars; be proud of it. To me, it shows the world how strong you are. I want a strong woman at my side, not some simpering girl who likes to embroider things and gossip. So stop acting like a victim and show me the queen you were born to be."

He wanted to shake her, shake some sense into her, but he restrained himself. As soon as the words left his mouth Loki knew it was one of those moments where either the after effects would be wonderful or terrible. Yevanna's reaction was almost immediate. One moment she was seated beside him, wavering, the next she was in his lap, her knees gripping his hips and her lips crashing down on his. Her mouth was hot and soft; he clung to her lips like a drowning man. Loki wrapped his arms around her waist and cradled her neck, pulling her ever closer to him. He felt her sharp intake of breath against his mouth as his thick manhood nestled between her thighs, pressing against her gloriously hot core. He smirked against her lips. Oh gods, she wasn't wearing undergarments.

Yevanna broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his. Loki let his hands trail down to her hips, pushing the hem of garment up to float around her waist. He reveled in the feeling of her smooth, bare skin beneath his fingertips.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was being stupid, emotional."

"I don't mind your emotions, Yeva, I just wish you'd talk to me instead of assuming things."

By the Allfather it was difficult to have this conversation when she was like that—legs spread and pressed against him.

He kissed her jaw line, her ear, her throat. "My sweet, strong sword-maiden. How could you ever think I wanted anyone but you? You are perfection itself, so unlike anyone I have ever known."

She tilted her head back, moaning and exposing the creamy skin of her neck to his lips. "I won't be a maiden for long if you keep that up."

He groaned as her hips moved against him on their own volition; sweet paradise only a thin barrier of cloth away. His cock twitched against her and her moan of surprise was music to his ears.

"Let me have you," he begged.

He ran his nose down her the hollow of her throat to the deep v of her collar, pressing his face to her breasts which were only partially covered by the water.

"I am dying of thirst in this desert and you are the only water to be had," he murmured into her chest.

Loki took one her pink buds into his mouth through the wet fabric, listening to her sharp intake of breath and soft moans. He swirled his tongue around her nipple before biting it playfully. Her nails raked down his chest in response.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything untoward," she panted.

"I lied."

He looked up at her, expectation and adoration coloring his emerald eyes. She looked as if she was going to say yes, but then her look of bliss turned to surprise then horror when the doors swing open on the other end of the hall. The voices of Thor, Baldur and the Warriors Three boomed over the expansive chamber.

Loki helped her scrambled out of the pool and pointed to a door a few feet away. "Turn right, and right, then left. Stick to the shadows and go to my room. I'll be there shortly."

She nodded and scurried off, seconds before the group of men rounded the corner.

"Brother! I did not expect to see you down here this early!" Thor thundered.

Loki gave his brother a tight lipped smile.

"Can't a man relax whenever he wishes?"

Instead of replying, Thor and the others jumped into the water. Loki tried to suppress his irritation. He made to leave, desperate to get back to Yevanna.

"Where are you going, cousin?" Baldur asked.

"Yes, stay a while! I believe the servants are bringing breakfast." Volstagg cheered.

* * *

Yevanna dashed through the palace quiet as death, hoping to Valhalla that no one encountered her in her current state. Her shift, which was perfectly acceptable when dry, was molded to her body and completely see-through. Her heart pounded in her chest; her blood was singing in her veins. She had never felt like that before, never even thought a person could feel like that. She blushed violently at the thought that just moments ago Loki had almost taken her right there in the palace baths.

And had she ever wanted him to. Even now her body was tingling gloriously at the thought.

Truly, though, half of her elated state was due to the fact that they had finally talked. She wasn't worried or second-guessing herself anymore. Her stupid injury hadn't done any more damage to their relationship that she had naively allowed it to.

Yevanna paused at the corner which led to Loki's chambers, reminding herself that guards were often stations at the doors. Sure enough, as she peeked around, their golden regalia shimmered in the fire light.

_Damn. There has to be another way._

She shivered as the breeze from the colonnade of windows licked at her wet, sensitive skin. She grinned. The window, of course. Wasn't she always telling Loki how good she was at climbing?

Flitting across the hallway, it was a quick jump and hop from balcony to balcony before she landed softly in Loki's chambers. Though it had always seemed a little chaotic, the piles of books and parchment scrolls littered every available surface. Clearly he didn't let the maids do their jobs while he was immersed in research.

She sat in front of the fireplace a moment, trying to dry off and wondering how long Loki would be. She bit her lip. Would she let him bed her tonight? Should she? It was true that they were going to be married eventually, but should they rush into it. How well did she know him, really? Who was she kidding, she probably knew him better than most. But still, at least according to her culture, once they made love, they would be bound together for eternity.

Yevanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. Ugh, she hadn't gotten the chance to wash it like she'd wanted to. There was a small door leading to what appeared to be his private bath. His rooms were definitely bigger than hers. Deciding that Thor would probably keep Loki longer than he anticipated, Yevanna padded over to the smaller room, discarding her wet garb along the way.

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoy that (or at least the end) ;) I should just say, I'm not very good at angst, so I hope it was halfway decent. Also, just a small reminder that the whole sex=marriage theme is definitely coming from Tolkien's elvish culture that I'm using as inspiration. That's not necessarily my viewpoint. **

**A big thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Alice-Ann Wonderland, HarryPotterFreakie, BlooAngels, iKatieCullen101, AvalonTheLadyKiller, and ZeldaxLove2468. As always, I really appreciate hearing what you think about the story. It definitely makes my day! **

**Also, thanks to everyone to added this story to their Alerts or Favorites! **

**Comments, Questions, or Concerns? Please Review or PM. **


	15. Chapter 15: My Lover My Husband My King

**This chapter is NSFW! Enjoy ;-)**

* * *

Chapter 15: My Lover, My Husband, My King

Loki stalked through the palace hallways towards his chambers, his feeling of annoyance with Thor slowly being displaced by anticipation. It had taken about a half an hour before he could slip away. Thor was always so infuriating! Every minute was one more Yevanna could change her mind and simply go back to her own bedroom.

He nodded to the guards as he entered the common space near his rooms, wondering just how Yevanna had managed to get past them, or if she had swanned by without batting an eyelash. Loki pushed his door open and frowned as she was nowhere to be seen.

"Yeva?"

Loki's eyes widened as he caught sight of Yevanna's white shift discarded on the floor near his bathing room.

"Ah, of course."

* * *

Yevanna sighed as the hot water washed over her, anticipation coiling in her stomach. The room itself had smooth gold walls, like everything else in Asgard, and a continuous waterfall of hot water. There were benches and a deep bathing pool as well. She was slightly curious as to why Loki needed so much room to bathe, but really, everything in the royal palace was built on a colossal scale.

She hoped he would come soon; she didn't know how much longer she could stand to wait. She was done worrying about whether or not they should be intimate; she wanted him and clearly he wanted her. The feeling of his hands on her skin remained, like a slow pleasurable burn. _Curse Thor and his terrible sense of timing. _

Giving her hair one final rinse, Yeva stepped out of the waterfall and reached for a drying cloth.

"You know, I can do that more quickly with magic."

She nearly jumped out of her skin as Loki's deep gravel voice floated to her ears. She spun around, clutching the cloth over her breasts to see him leaning in the door way, arms crossed over his bare chest. He twirled his index finger in a circle and she felt a warming sensation as her body and hair dried itself. His emerald eyes lingered over her frame and traveled upward, a hungry look on his face. Heat pooled between her legs as his eyes smoldered into her.

"How long have you been standing there?" She was really more curious than upset.

Loki smirked before pushing himself off of the doorway. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he stalked towards her and she found herself rooted to the spot, like a doe caught in a wolf's gaze or a rabbit hypnotized by a snake. His eyes were so lovely, so deep, she couldn't tear herself away.

Not that she wanted to.

"Long enough to enjoy the view; or at least, the back of it," he smirked.

Her body was on fire, positively crackling with pleasure and desire at his words. Yevanna wanted Loki to put his hands on her, and she'd never needed anything quite so desperately in her entire life. He was right before her; staring down with an intense look on his handsome face.

"Loki," she whispered.

Yevanna's eyes fluttered closed as Loki ghosted his fingers up her throat, tilting her chin towards him. His kiss was gentle at first, tentative almost, but soon picked up in fervor. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip, asking for entrance which she happily granted. Yevanna, dropping the cloth between them, snaked her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his ebony hair. Loki enveloped her in his arms, letting his hands roam over her back, her neck, the curve of her ass, crushing her to him. She had never experienced the feeling of bare skin pressed against her own; it was electrical.

As he kissed her, Loki trailed one of his large, warm hands down her side. He was teasing her hips bone, drawing circles on her inner thigh. She shifted a little, encouraging him with her body to touch her. Yeva gasped into his mouth as he slowly dragged his middle finger over her slick folds.

"Fucking Hel, woman, you're so wet," he groaned.

Slowly, he pushed one finger inside of her pussy and pumped in and out. After a moment he added a second finger, all the while keeping his slow, torturous rhythm. She was lucky she was holding on to him, or else she might have fallen over.

"Take me to bed," she pleaded.

Pulling out of her, Loki sucked on his fingers, tasting her wetness.

"You taste like heaven, darling," he whispered, his voice low with lust.

The noise she made at his words was utterly animalistic. "Fuck me."

He bent down and, scooping her up in his arms, carried her towards his golden bed.

"As you wish."

Laying her down on his green silk sheets, Loki covered her body with his. Yevanna ran her hands down his back, his arms, his sides, feeling his taut muscles while his mouth found hers. Loki pulled her legs around his waist and his stiff cock rubbed against her aching center. She moaned and rolled her hips to get more sweet friction.

Loki moved his lips from her mouth to her throat, biting and sucking on the tender flesh. His hand cupped her breast and he rolled her pink, hard nipple between his fingers. Another moan escaped her lips as she moved against him harder, tendrils of pleasure shooting down her spine to her pussy. She had never imagined being bedded would be this intense, this wonderful, this _frustrating_. She wanted him inside of her.

As if he had heard her thoughts, Loki pulled back, sitting on his haunches at her feet. Yeva pushed herself up on her elbows to see him better. With a snap of his fingers, his bathing pants disappeared, leaving Loki as naked as she was. Her breath caught in her throat as his thick member curved up towards his chest, a small bead of moisture weeping from the smooth tip.

"Are you ready?" His voice was soft and gentle.

She nodded, "Yes."

Yeva's voice was small, but firm. Though she had not known it at the time, she had been waiting for this moment since they were introduced in Fulk's citadel. The kiss he had left on her hand that night, and the memory of his hands on her body as they danced had awoken a fire deep within her that was only now going to be quenched, or perhaps, stoked even higher.

Loki lifted her leg to rest on his shoulder and trailed kisses up her ankle, her calf, and finally thigh. His lips where thin, but soft and the occasional flick of his tongue drove her wild as he slowly crawled on top of her again. Her leg shifted to wrap around his waist when he was once more looming over her. His cock pressed against her entrance and she almost came undone when it twitched, hitting the bundle of nerves just above. Loki captured her face between his hands, stroking her left cheek with his thumb. He looked pensive, perhaps even a little apprehensive. She bit her lip, knowing on some unconsciously level this his words would be monumental. She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of his hard body against hers envelope her.

"Yeva, my beautiful Yeva. Look at me," he commanded.

she did so, locking her light blue eyes on his emerald ones.

"I do love _nothing_ in the world so well as you." he rasped.

Before she could reply, he covered her mouth with his, in a slow, deliberated kiss. His tongue danced with hers and he slowly, gently, pushed his manhood inside of her, inch by torturous inch, allowing her time to adjust to his girth.

"Is that alright, darling?" He murmured against her lips.

In response she moved her hips, begging him to continue. Loki grinned and slowly pulled himself almost completely out and thrust back in. Again, and again, and _again._ His slow pace was both pleasure and frustration. Yeva could feel every inch of him, every ridge and vein, his thickness practically splitting her in two in the most delightful way, but the heat coiling in her belly from his languid pace was maddening. He was maddening, every move, every look had nearly set her undone; she didn't know how long she would last.

"Loooki," she moaned meeting his thrusts.

In response he buried his face in her neck, swirling his tongue over the bites he placed there. She arched her back into him and ran a hand through his hair—she loved the feeling of his dark locks slipping through her fingers and that he let her muss it up. His lips brushed over her shoulders, then collarbone; he licked the hollow of her throat, all the while his cock was delving in and out of her hot core. He filled her completely as he pushed himself in up to the hilt. She slid one hand down to grip his ass and lifted her hips, urging him deeper inside of her as pleasure licked up her body.

Loki slid one hand down her side to cup her breast, kneading it with his large hand. he licked her other nipple and, taking it in his mouth, bit down.

"Oh, Loki!"

His other entwined their fingers while his mouth sought hers. That simple action of holding her hand sent Yeva over the edge; her aching core began to clench around him, sending spikes of pleasure coursing through her body. she wrapped her legs completely around his waist and arched her back, moaning into his mouth. Her wet pussy throbbing around his cock and he thrust faster into her, riding out her orgasm.

"Oh, Loki! Oh, my lover, my husband, my king!" She cried, barely aware of what she was saying in the flush of her pleasure, but knowing it was the truth.

He flipped them over, and gripped her hips, urging her to ride him fast as he pounded into her. She was arching her back and gripping his chest for support, hardly aware of how deeply her nails were digging into his flesh. Loki tilted his head back as he felt his release coming onto him.

"Yeva...Yevanna!"

With one final, powerful thrust, Loki snarled her name as he spilled his seed deep within her. Yevanna leaned down and nipped his exposed throat as he pumped erratically into her, riding out his orgasm against her gyrating hips.

After, they lay together; soft caresses and words exchanged in the half-darkness. Yevanna was so close to sleep with her head pillowed on his chest, his heart beating a lullaby in her ear. His arms were warm and safe around her, but she struggled to stay awake not wanting to leave the moment.

"I love you, Loki," she murmured, unable to fight sleep anymore.

She felt his lips against her forehead for a chaste kiss.

"I know, darling."

* * *

The woman skirted the shadows along the wall, careful to not be seen by the few servants who still used these passages. She had gotten his note earlier that day requesting she meet him. Though it was mid-morning and the sun was shining brightly outside the palace walls, these back halls were dark and dreary.

_Three doors down the left side, enter, door behind the tapestry._

The room his instruction brought her to was…strange. It was small and dark. The far wall was filled with an ancient bookshelf and crumbling manuscripts. Another wall was taken up with a giant tapestry of Asgard; little pins were stick in at various points with strings attached. She moved closer, trying to get a better look at what he was marking as important.

"So glad you could make it."

She jumped as his voice came from behind her. She spun to see him lurking in the shadows, bright eyes glimmering in the low light.

"Your note said we needed to discuss certain developments?"

She had planned on gradually bringing up their business—polite conversation was the best way to indicate that she was not afraid of him—the room made her nervous. It had a dark, insidious smell that made her want to run away as fast as she could.

"The box, you know. You've heard of the box _he_ found, correct?"

She nodded; though she was not part of the council, the information was easy enough to procure if you knew the right people.

"_She _found it," she corrected.

He chuckled. "Immaterial. It's in his hands now, dearest. They're getting closer and I don't just mean to finding answers to riddles of which they shouldn't be aware. If my guesses are correct, they were _together_ last night in the palace baths. If memory serves, he used to take you there too."

The double meaning of his words was not lost on her, and she reeled back as if she had been slapped. She turned to leave, the fresh wounds too painful to want to stay.

"I think this meeting is over."

His steel like grip latched onto her wrist, pulling her back to him.

"Calm down. You'll have your precious Lie-Smith back, leave him to me. You worry about the Iron-Maiden."

* * *

Yevanna rolled over and rubbed her eyes to get the sleep out of them. The ache in her thighs and womb brought back all the memories form last night. She smiled to herself, basking on the afterglow. She reached for Loki, wondering when she had left his arms during her sleep. Her hand met empty bed and she sat up, stretching languidly.

"Loki?"

His room was dark, though it must be midday at least, with the heavy gold curtains pulled over the arches to the balcony. Spying him bend over at one of his desks, she stood and pulled on a discarded tunic, happy that the soft green fabric fell to mid-thigh on her. She padded over to him and watched in silence as he mixed some liquids together in crystal vials. Loki was certainly concentrating hard on whatever he was doing; she wasn't sure if had heard her before and certainly he didn't seem to be aware of her right at his elbow. Either way, he hadn't acknowledged her presence.

"Did you sleep well?" He murmured without looking up.

Perhaps he was bit more perceptive that she thought. Yevanna leaned against the desk, arms at her side.

"Very well, although I was surprised wake up without you."

Loki carefully swirled one of the vials and took note of the color it changed, before setting them down in a holder.

"My deepest apologies, darling; when I'm working on something I find it difficult to sleep very long."

Gently, he pulled her down onto his lap and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. She smiled, his kiss making her conscious of the pleasant ache above her thighs. Mirroring her thoughts, Loki ran his fingertips lightly up her leg. Yevanna's breath hitched in her throat and she tried to think of a distraction.

"What are you working on?" Her breathless voice betraying her want.

"I'm glad you should ask," he murmured, shifting them in the chair so that her back was pressed against him and she was seated between his widespread legs.

Keeping one arms wrapped around her waist, Loki picked up a vial filled with a thick blue liquid.

"I'm trying to develop something to neutralize the effects of Jotun blood on elves."

His palm wandered upward, cupping her breast. Her nipple hardened at the touch of his cold hand and she felt her sore pussy grow wet.

"After being in Jotunheim, it became apparent that we would be at a slight disadvantage if every time an elf killed our adversary, they were incapacitated," he continued blithely.

Loki moved his hand to her other breast, kneading her soft flesh and pinching her nipple. Yeva felt his cock stir against her back; she pushed against him, eliciting a soft groan. This was certainly an unexpected, though welcomed, turn to her morning. After having laid with him once, she found her desire magnified. If they could just stay locked in this room forever and explore each other's bodies, she would be happy.

"Have you found a solution?" She asked.

Yevanna slipped her hand behind her back and grasped his hardening length, quite pleased with herself when he throbbed at her touch.

"Yes, this should be just what we're looking for," he mumbled the words into the back of her head, his face buried in her scarlet locks.

Loki placed the vial back in its holder and slowly traveled with his free hand down her flat stomach and hips to cup her sex. Her inner thighs and folds were slick with her own desire; she moved her hips against his fingers and cock, aching for contact. Finally, he slipped between her legs and stroked her pussy. Yevanna felt a growl of satisfaction rumble in his chest when he found her wet again.

"That should be quite useful," she said, successfully keeping the moan out of her voice as he pumped two long fingers in and out of her.

Deftly, she unlaced the front of his breeches, freeing his straining erection. She concentrated on squeezing and rubbing the tip; her movements unfortunately restricted by their position.

"Yes, I was hoping to produce enough of it to keep your troops safe."

Loki's thumb started circling her clit causing her to moan softly. She could practically feel his self-satisfied smirk. She stroked him harder in response.

"What about Aetius' troops?" She questioned, trying to keep the conversation going as if he wasn't crooking his fingers in her pussy in the most delicious way and she couldn't feel his throbbing cock pressed against her back. She leaned her head back on his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed down on her; he was pushing her towards the edge of oblivion again. Fuck, she was going to come soon; all she wanted was to make him come as well.

"That pompous little shit can go sod himself," Loki growled in her ear.

"Loki," she'd meant it as a chastisement, but it came out a moan.

She closed her eyes as he planted soft, wet kisses down her neck and squeezed her breast. Loki's cock was straining in her hand and the way he was breathing made her think perhaps he was as close to ecstasy as she was. This morning wasn't about the slow love-making that last night was; no, this morning was about seeing just how fast they could push each other's buttons the right way.

"You look ravishing in this shirt, dear. The color is very fetching on you."

His fingers picked up the pace and his thumb circled her harder as her pussy started to clench around him. She pressed her hips back into him and he mirrored her actions, rubbing himself against her back and in her hand.

"You should…ooh…you should like it. Mmmm. Oh Loki. It's yours."

"So is the woman wearing it," he panted before sinking his teeth into the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck.

She cried out as her release flooded over her body and her core tightened around Loki's fingers. She squeezed his cock and felt it give a might twitch as his hot release coated her hand and upper hips. Their heavy breath filled the room as they sat together for a while, coming down from their high. He massaged the bite mark with his tongue and she turned her head to the side a little, catching his mouth, despite to feel his lips on hers. Her desire still on his fingers, he cupped her face gently as he stroked her mouth with his own. Yevanna sighed contently, little shocks of pleasure still fluttering in her clit.

A sharp knock on the door caused them to break apart. Loki looked at her for a moment, unsure if they really wanted to answer the summons of the real world, or ignore it completely. Another loud bang and Loki sighed heavily. Yeva scrambled off of his lap and retreated into the darker recesses of the room so not to be seen. It didn't need to be common knowledge in the servants' quarters that they were lovers, after all. She grinned at the thought of her and Loki together, liking the way it sounded in her mind and the lovely images that bloomed behind her eyes.

Loki laced his trousers back up and with a wave of his hand, erased the evidence of their lovemaking. He stalked to the door and wrenched it open, perhaps a little harder than necessary and spoke to the messenger for a moment before slamming the door and turning to her.

"It seems my mother requests I join her for tea."

He didn't sound too happy about the situation, but Yeva figured it was just because he hadn't finished having his way with her yet. She kissed his cheek.

"It's quite alright. I should meet Theo for practice anyway," she said.

"You could accompany me," he offered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him.

She leaned against him, happy to feel Loki's strong body next to her.

"No, that would be the height of rudeness," she teased. "Besides, I really should practice; I have not been very disciplined about it recently."

Loki sighed in an exaggerated manner, "Oh alright. Will you come back tonight?"

Yevanna almost laughed at the absurdity of his question when she realized he was legitimately worried that she might, during the course of the day, decide she didn't want him. Instead, though, she stood on her toes and gave him a chaste kiss.

"Of course I will."

* * *

Loki strode through the palace halls, on his way to the Queen's apartments. If anyone spoke to him, he did not acknowledge it, lost as he was in thought. When his father had informed him, all those months ago, that when he and Thor traveled to Alfheimr, he would need to choose a bride from one of the royal houses, he had not been pleased.

_They had been called to the Allfather's private study, a sure sign that the information which was about to be revealed would be top secret and pressingly important. His mother had been sitting on a small gold couch off to the side; her lips pursed in displeasure. That was never a good sign. Queen Frigga rarely disagreed with her husband, but when she did, it usually ended up that she was right and he was being stubborn. _

_ "Thor, Loki, my sons," Odin started, seated at his great desk with his boys standing before him. "The path of war lies before us once again. You are both well aware that the Frost Giants of Jotunheim threaten us and after much deliberation with Heimdall All-Seeing, it has become apparent that we need allies. Asgard cannot face this threat alone. This is why I am sending you both to Alfheimr; it is of the utmost importance that you convince the elvenkings to lend us aid."_

_ "Father, do you really think they will gladly aid us?" Thor asked. _

_ Loki tried not to roll his eyes at his older brother, surely Thor wasn't so stupid to not understand how alliance worked. _

_ "Of course not. That's why we must offer something in exchange."_

_ The Allfather turned his one blue eye to his younger son. Loki felt trepidation curl in the pit of his stomach. He was not going to like this. _

_ "Loki, Asgard requires your silvertongue in this endeavor. In order to cement the alliance, we need you to woo and wed an elvish maiden, preferable a princess, though as long as she is closely enough related to a monarch to make the match advantageous, we will be please with you."_

_Loki clenched his jaw to keep from shouting. Was he some prize stallion to be put out to stud? Surely his father knew he had a woman. Half the palace knew it for Valhalla's sake. Still, the real reason this decision cut through him like a knife was that he well knew some elvish kingdoms were matriarchal; if he chose a woman from one of those regions, he would never sit on the throne of Asgard. To rule both regions would be unthinkable. _

"_As you wish, father," he choked out between clenched teeth._

_Sigyn of course had been furious when he came to her that night. But she had sat there and taken the news without so much as a tear. Always demure and obedient, she was, he had thought at the time. _

_Loki had gone to Alfheimr, obedient to his father's wishes, perhaps hoping to gain some approval finally. He fully intended to find himself a quite girl who wouldn't raise a fuss about him keeping a mistress, someone who would suite the parameters of the alliance, but nothing more. _

_And then Yevanna had breezed into his life. She was different than any woman he had ever met, excepting, perhaps, Sif. She was intelligent, hot headed, and completely irresistible. When she told him about how she slew the troll king by beheading him in a drunken stupor, Loki was utterly smitten, though he had not known it at the time. Her ingenuity and cunning in the situation had appealed to him, as had her refusal to be controlled or hushed by the men around her. Beowulf, Ibelin, she was having none of it, and he found that oddly enticing; he found her sharp tongue delightful. She appealed to his mischief. _

_When he returned to Asgard, he told his parents first, attempting to betray none on his sentiment towards the girl. Odin had been happy that she was true heir to the High Throne of Alfheimr. Frigga had been happy that her son seemed happy, though he tried to avoid giving the impression that he was overly pleased; he was still, after all, angry with his father for putting him in a position where he essentially conceded the throne to Thor willingly. Besides, he had a reputation that nothing got under his skin to maintain. _

_And then he had to tell Sigyn. She had been so happy to see him back in Asgard. She had run to embrace him, but he pushed her away; it was best not to give her any hope, because there was none. He was already past the point of no return and was not even sure Yevanna was wholly his then. _

"_What's wrong?" She asked, her voice wavering, already reading the signs. _

"_I came here tonight to inform you that we will not be seeing each other anymore. I have chosen my bride and I will not insult her by keeping another woman."_

_She had stared blankly at him, trying to comprehend, not expecting him to be so blunt. Surely she must have known this was a possibility._

"_But…but you said—"_

"_I know what I said, Sigyn," he snapped, "but it's no longer realistic. I do apologize if I gave you false ideas but Asgard requires I devote my attentions to my wife."_

She exploded in anger. "_ASGARD?! YOU DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ASGARD!" _

_He had never heard her shout before, or use profanity. He didn't like it though, it was as if he was seeing her true face for the first time and for all her charms, she was ugly at heart. With Yevanna, everything was right there on her face to read. _

"_Is this love, Loki?" she spat at him, her tone mocking. _

_He wasn't sure if she meant between them or between him and Yevanna but he didn't care. _

"_I don't know what love is," he replied curtly before turning on his heel and leaving. _

_But he had been lying then; perhaps to spare Sigyn, perhaps to protect Yevanna, but looking back he thought he might have been in love with the elvish princess already, or if not, nearly there. Loki couldn't say exactly when he fell in love with her—falling in love was like falling asleep, you never knew exactly when it happened until it had—but he could pinpoint exactly when he realized it. It was when they were in Jotunheim and he was crouched in Laufey's window, one Jotun had been holding her captive, Laufey stalking towards her with menace in his step. He knew he had to do something, to stop it, to save her. _

_He would have destroyed that entire world if she had died there. But she hadn't and __now she was all his, completely and utterly his. He had to admit to himself that she had completely crawled under his skin. He didn't care though; she felt good there. _

Snapping out of his reverie, Loki found himself outside of his mother's chambers. He entered as he was announced. Queen Frigga was sitting on her balcony, tea waiting. He kissed her cheek before sitting down.

"How are you today, dear?" She asked while pouring him a cup.

"Well, mother, quite well."

Frigga gave him a look when she handed him his cup and saucer. It was unusual for him to admit to being in such a good mood and she knew it.

"Did you make a breakthrough with your research?" She inquired lightly before making her own cup of tea.

"Not on the box, unfortunately, but I did develop a salve that will neutralized the effects of Jotun blood on elvish skin."

"My son, brilliant as usual. Wherever did you get your intelligence from?" She teased.

Loki chuckled. "From my mother, of course."

She set down her tea cup and reached over to squeeze his hand in hers, "I'm so happy for Loki. When your father explained his plan to me, I was worried for you. But you seem so happy."

Loki fought off an embarrassed look. He knew his mother care about him dearly, but he was unused to her speaking so freely of his emotions; she knew it made him uncomfortable.

"Thank you, mother," he mumbled.

She let go of his hand with a soft smile. "So dear, I thought it best to start planning your wedding."

Loki groaned in annoyance. "Wouldn't you rather discuss that with Yevanna?"

"Well, eventually, but I wanted to run some things by you first," she smirked and Loki wonder not for the first time if he got his mischievous streak from his mother as well.

* * *

Yevanna sauntered into the practice yard, trying not to betray the fact that her most intimate parts were throbbing painfully with every move. She wasn't sure she'd be able to go a full round with Theo today.

"Good morning Theo, Lady Sif," she chirped, "are you ready to practice?"

Theo scratched the back of his neck. "Well, we were thinking of going for a horseback ride? Would you like to join?"

Yevanna frowned slightly. Bouncing astride a horse did not sound like very much fun at the moment, but she wasn't sure how to say know without revealing why.

"Well, I um…did quite a bit of riding yesterday…with a new saddle and would really rather keep my feet on the ground today."

"Oh, I didn't see you out at the stables, I was down here almost all day," Theo remarked.

Yevanna shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, it was rather late at night. Anyway," she hurried on, "I was really hoping I might have a word with you later. When you're done with your ride. If you could meet me in the mead hall?"

Theo nodded. "Of course."

She contented herself with practicing with a group of her officers for an hour before heading to the mead hall near the soldier's barracks and waited for Theo.

He arrived about an hour after that, looking flushed but happy. He sat next to her and grabbed two mugs of mead for them from a passing serving girl. They knocked glasses together and drank.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Yeva?"

"Well, I actually wanted to apologize—"

"Yeva, you don't have to apologize for anything," he started, almost automatically.

She held her hand up to him. "Please, just let me say this. I've been a complete ass lately and for a while now. I was surly and short when I returned from Jotunheim because my face got a little injured. I didn't stop to think how you might feel. And then I realized I'd been completely patronizing about your arm. You never asked me to help you practice fighting. I never asked if it was what you wanted. I'm sorry."

She gave him a weak smile, a little embarrassed about how much she stumbled over her words, wondering if he would understand what she was trying to convey. Theo watched her for a long moment, mulling over her words, before he nodded.

"I accept your apology. I have to admit, at the time I didn't want to learn to fight again but it was what I needed. I need a swift kick in my ass to stop feeling sorry for myself. As for your recent behavior; I understand. You were injured in a way that is really personal. But you don't need to diminish your experience because it's not objectively as bad as mine," he laughed and knocked his mug of mead back, "by the Allfather when did I get so serious?!"

She laughed too, so relieved that they had talked.

"I don't know, but I feel as if I've watched you grow up right before my eyes…speaking of which, how are things with you and Lady Sif?"

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He practically choked on his drink.

"I don't know what you mean!"

"Oh, of course not. '_We were just thinking about going for a ride this morning,'_" she mimicked.

"I could say the same of you! '_I rode quite a lot yesterday,'_ I'll bet you did," he teased.

She smacked his arm and whispered: "You can't tell anyone!"

Theo's eyes couldn't have gotten wider if he had tried. "I wasn't serious! Oh my! Yeva did you really?"

She was blushing horribly now. "Yes, but keep it down. All the Nine Realms don't need to know."

Theo just laughed and got her another drink.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed Chapter 15! I finally made myself sit down and outline the rest of this story and I just can't wait to write it all for you. :) Intimacy is so much harder to write that straight up smut, but I hope I did a decent job of it. I also really enjoyed writing Loki and Frigga, 'cause you know he's totally her favorite. In other exciting news, this chapter marked 200 pages in Microsoft Word! That's the longest thing I've ever written. **

**Cultural Note (haven't had one of these in a while!): I just thought I should mentioned that "I do love nothing in the world so well as you" is a quote from Shakespeare's _Much Ado About Nothing,_** **but I thought it worked well :) **

**I want to thank Tayler Snape13, ErinShore1, Alice-Ann Wonderland, Moonlight Calls, HarryPotterFreakie, Leebeloola, and Loki'sdreamer, for your wonderful reviews! I love hearing from everyone one who reads my story. :)**

**I also want to thank anyone who added this story their favorites or alerts! You guys rock!**

**Comments, Questions, Concerns? Please Review or PM. **


	16. Chapter 16: Color Schemes and Cocks

**Part of this chapter is NSFW :)**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Color Schemes and Cocks

The darkness had been his companion for many days now; he, in the beginning, had tried to keep track of the rising and falling of the moon, but there was no moon to track. His body knew when it was night the way a lover knew a beloved was near. But still, even his lover the moon could not keep the darkness at bay. The darkness that had swallowed up his life because _she_ couldn't just accept her fate. It was always night down here anyway. His lover the moon was a lying bitch.

But now it—the darkness—was receding back onto and into itself. Another was approaching.

Beowulf squinted against the torch; the light overwhelming after weeks in near perpetual darkness. He had known, as he sat day by day and hour by hour in the night that was his existence that something was going to change. Something or someone would come and change things. He knew, just as he knew he would eventually rule the Western Woods, that he was not going to die in this black hole.

The light of one torch was blinding, he reeled back and shielded his eyes with his shackled hands.

"And here I thought I was going to see the proud Lord Beowulf. Instead I get a madman who murdered my brother," a woman's voice hissed at him.

He licked his chapped lips and lowered his hands, allowing the pain to shoot through his eyes as he stared head on into the flames. He would not be thought of as lesser.

"One or both, its' all the same," he snapped.

"Yes, apparently," she mused, more to herself than to him.

His eyes adjusted; he knew her, from before. Her golden skin and dark hair was familiar if only because he had dispatched her reflection. Melisende. She was wearing a blood red gown that he thought went well with her personality. Beowulf wondered why she was alone—well besides the servant who held her torch and she hardly counted. Where was his uncle? How was she being allowed to see him? Then it clicked: she was here on her own accord, without the expressed permission of the king. My my, what a delightful opportunity this would be.

"A little rat told me the most delightful thing about you and your brother, milady."

Her smile dropped, "I had hoped to dispel those rumors."

"Good luck," he chirped. "Once rumor has flown into the world, it is very difficult to call her back. One might almost say impossible. Though if you stop her at the source…" He sincerely hoped she understood what he was getting at, because it was all very tedious to have to spell everything out to everyone. People were so dull sometimes.

"That's why I'm here, you filthy little murderer."

Apparently his beautiful riddles were falling on deaf ears. Well, then, there must be another approach to it.

"Oh, please don't be angry. I can't stand the shouting, it makes my ears bleed, you see. But really, he was so weak in the end. He begged, you know. But I did make him a promise—one to take care of his most precious sister."

"You're repulsive."

"But I'm stronger than him. Think on it."

"I only came here to tell you that King Theoderic has agreed to let me execute you myself," Melisende snapped. "I wanted to see the hope die in your eyes when you realized that you're fate is sealed."

He licked his lips again. This girl was determined, he would give her that. Perhaps a new approach was needed. The only thing more powerful than vengeance was self-preservation.

"She found it you know," he spoke as if he hadn't heard her. "She told her father, but it has slipped their minds. No matter, it's nestled there, in the back of their heads, ready to hatch again like a little egg."

Melisende stared at him in a way that Beowulf thought perhaps she meant to be a look of not understanding, however, he knew, deep, deep down in her toes, that she knew what he was talking about it. She leaned in close to him, nearly pressing her face through the bars.

"I don't believe you," she hissed.

He let his smile spread over, the old spark of evil back in his eye.

"So you do know what I'm talking about," he lick his lips, tasting blood. "Let's re-evaluate who's fate is sealed then, shall we?"

* * *

Yevanna stood in the training yard, surveying a battalion of troops as they sparred. There had been reports of Jotun sightings along the northern coast of Asgard, but nothing to confirm yet. Still, it was better to make sure that her army was ready to go if they received the orders. All they were really waiting for was enough of the salve Loki developed to become available for all five thousand soldiers. She had, after much convincing, talked him into created enough for Aetius' troops as well, but her men received first priority.

She smiled to herself, thinking of Loki. It had been three days since they became lovers and they could hardly keep their hands off of each other. Every morning was a struggle to leave his bed; he would kiss her skin, and her hair, and her eyes, coaxing her back into the silken sheets. Upon reflection, Yevanna shouldn't have been surprised at his breathtaking stamina; he was a god, after all. He was different when they were alone together—kinder, gentler. The cold veneer he presented to the world melted away once the bedroom door was closed and it wasn't just the sex. If she was being honest with herself, Yevanna had noticed his less severe disposition in her presence long ago.

Yeva snapped out of her daydream, and tried to focus on the task at hand. Besides, she had a full day of social events that, truth be told, she wasn't exactly looking forward to. She had promised to have tea with Lady Sigyn last week and had been informed earlier yesterday that the King and Queen wished to have her and Aetius over for dinner. Anyway, fantasizing about what Loki would do to her that evening wouldn't help make her social obligations go by any faster, it would just make them more awkward.

She gave the signal to Theo to end the training. He sounded two short blasts on his horn and the troops fell into formation, waiting to hear what Yevanna would say.

"Nice work, men! Tomorrow Prince Loki will be distributing and demonstrating the salve to keep Frost Giant blood from damaging your skin!" She called across the field, cognizant that all eyes were focused on her and her cheek with that announcement.

She tried not to be self-conscious about it. Word of her foray and resulting injury in Jotunheim had spread through the camp like wildfire, but after a few appearances among the men, she realized most of them seemed to respect her more for it.

She turned to Theo, "if you could please oversee the rest of the training? I, unfortunately, am called upon by the gentler sex and have to prepare myself so as not to look too mannish."

He chuckled at her annoyance at having to put on a dress for tea, but agreed good-naturedly to command the rest of the practices for that day. As second in command, he enjoyed the opportunity to exercise his leadership skills. There were only two more battalions to run through, anyway, as Yevanna had already overseen the first three. With a heavy sigh, she headed back to her own chambers for a bath.

An hour later, Yeva found herself being ushered into Lady Sigyn's small but airy sitting room. Sigyn was seated on a couch with about a dozen or so ladies around her, all apparently handmaidens of the queen. The room was a blur of pastels, so out of character for the usually golden palace. The only other person Yeva recognized was Sif, who by her close friendship with Thor was also including in the discussion.

As soon as she entered, Sigyn stood and clasped Yevanna's hand tightly in her own. "I'm so pleased you could come! Please, be seated."

Yevanna awkwardly sat next to Sif, smoothing down her plain yellow gown as she did so. She was taken by surprise at Sigyn's overly friendly welcome (she had only talked to the girl a handful of times after all) and was unsure how to act as a gathering such as this. Still, she supposed it could be worse, instead of enthusiastic friendship, the handmaidens could be offering her cold indifference.

"I apologize for being late. I was overseeing some drill formations with my troops."

The ladies twittered at that, though Sigyn accepted her apology graciously. Yevanna was overly aware of that fact that many of the girls in the room were giving her sidelong glances, though she couldn't fathom why besides the fact that her utter lack of ladylike skills made her stand out.

"We were just discussing the theme of her majesty's party," Sif stated, not remotely attempting to keep the boredom out of her voice.

"As I was saying before you arrived, I think we should do a masquerade," their hostess said to coos of acclimation.

"Oh yes! That is always so lovely! The mystery of not knowing who you're dancing with. It's ever so romantic," a dark haired woman exclaimed.

Yevanna thought it was highly unlikely that after centuries upon centuries of knowing each other a few scraps of fabric over their faces would really disguise their identities. She kept her mouth shut, however, so as not to appear rude.

Only Sif rolled her eyes. "We do a masquerade every year, or have you forgotten."

"Well, everyone enjoys them!" The dark haired woman retorted.

"What do you think, Princess Yevanna?" A shy girl asked from behind her fan.

Yeva was slightly startled at the question; why in Valhalla's name would they want her opinion on the matter?

"Well, I don't really know. I do not have much experience planning parties," she said lamely. "But, if everyone seems to like the idea of a masquerade…" She trailed off, not really knowing how to end.

"What do you mean? You don't plan the banquets and feasts back home?" A blond girl, Yeva thought her name might have been Margery, asked utterly surprised by the idea.

"Not really, my father has better uses for my talents. His steward usually takes care of any banquet logistics."

"What do you do for your own mother's parties?" Sigyn asked sweetly, "Surely you have a hand in planning those."

Yevanna was struck speechless for a moment, trying to decide if that had actually just happened or if she had hallucinated. She heard Sif's hiss of breath and was comforted by the fact at least one person knew how inappropriate that question was. She bit her lip before replying, trying to think of the best way to go about it without betraying the sudden surge of emotions clouding her judgment.

"My mother doesn't celebrate her birthday; she's dead—she died giving birth to me."

An awkward, uncomfortable silence fell around the room as everyone tried not to catch her gaze.

"I am so sorry," Sigyn said in her honey sweet voice.

Yevanna shrugged, "It's quite alright, you did not know."

"What about a yellow and blue color scheme?" Another blond woman chipped in, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable atmosphere.

The conversation slowly picked up after that and Yeva was perfectly happy to let it go on around her as she tried to lower her blood pressure and control her heart beat. Really, she knew Sigyn hadn't meant it to be cruel, but it still made her angry that she had to disclose her mother's death to a group of people she hardly knew. She felt manipulated into it.

Glancing to her right, Sif couldn't have looked more bored. Yevanna surmised that she was only here because she had to be. It was eventually settled that, yes they would have a masquerade, but it would be different from last year because they would be doing a summer theme and last year they had done a bird theme. It didn't strike Yevanna as particularly original seeing as it was summer, but, she decided, when the guest of honor was immortal one had to recycle ideas eventually.

The conversation soon turned to romance, a topic Yeva found even more dull that party planning.

"Lord Ricard has been paying me favor again, though I don't know if I shall give him the time. He is so boring."

"But rich! And isn't his father a good friend of the Allfather?"

"How about you Sigyn? Any new men in your view?"

"Of course not. I've sworn off men for the time being," was the reply.

A twitter of nervous laughter ensured and Yevanna tried not to roll her eyes at the behavior. She could understand Sigyn's stance, though she did not know the reason for the decision.

"And how are things between you and Prince Loki?" The shy girl from before asked, causing all the eyes in the room to turn on her.

Yevanna couldn't stop the blush from coming to her cheeks and she took a drink of tea to give herself a chance to think. She didn't exactly feel like telling this entire group of women that she had just lost her maidenhead to Loki.

"Quite well, I suppose," she murmured.

"Oh look, she's blushing!" Someone exclaimed, "it must be going _quite_ well then."

"Do tell us, is there a reason he's call 'silver tongue'?"

"Really, girls, do not pester the Princess so," Sigyn exclaimed.

The girls ignored their hostess and persisted with questions. Yevanna felt overwhelmed She opened her mouth to tell the girl that she really didn't feel comfortable discussing that when Sif stood up.

"So sorry to disappoint, but Yevanna and I promised Thor we'd meet him in the armory. Please excuse us."

Yevanna nodded to Sigyn and quickly follow Sif. Her hostess looked both relieved and disappointed. Yevanna decided not to dwell too hard on what had just happened, or else she might die of embarrassment.

Once they were safely beyond earshot she turned to the other woman.

"Thank you for thinking so quickly and excusing us. Is all they can think to talk of color schemes and cocks?"

Sif burst out laughing. "Well, when one's only other pastime is embroidering, I suppose those are the best conversation topics. But really, don't let them get under your skin. Half of them are jealous that you do as you please and the other half are jealous that it seems to be exactly what Loki likes."

"Was he…popular with the Queen's handmaidens?" Yevanna wasn't sure if she actually wanted to hear the answer to that, but perhaps it was always better to know.

Sif paused at looked at her for a moment, seemingly unsure that she had actually just been asked that question.

"I don't think there was every anything serious with any of them, but you would have to ask him."

* * *

Sif sat in the common space between her chambers and those of the Warriors Three, Yevanna and the Princes. She was busy polishing her shield by the fire, pretending it was Sigyn's face. Sif was willing to bet all the gold in Asgard that Sigyn new Yevanna's mother had died in childbirth She didn't know what the handmaiden was up to, besides general mischief, but Sif doubted it was good. It was plain for anyone to see that Sigyn was jealous of the elvish princess…well perhaps not that plain. Yevanna seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Sigyn and her little followers were deliberately goading her. Though from what she could surmise from Yevanna's question early that day, Loki had never actually told his fiancée about his past relationship.

Sif had grown to like Yevanna very much. It was a rare opportunity to meet another woman so accomplished at the art of war. Not only that, but Yevanna had proven to be funny and a good companion. Sometimes it was nice to get away from all the men she so often associated with and speak with another woman. She had never been Loki's greatest admirer, truth be told she didn't trust him much, but as far as she could tell he and Yevanna were actually quite good for each other. She would be very upset indeed if things fell through between them and Yevanna ultimately went back to Alfheimr without any hope of continued contract.

The part of her brain paying attention to the surroundings heard the door to one of the chambers behind her opened. She didn't bother to look who it was; if they wished her company, they would say so.

"Good evening, Lady Sif," Loki's even-toned voice floated across the expanse.

She turned to him and nodded. "Prince Loki."

"Will you be dining with the King and Queen tonight?" He asked.

She shook her head, "no, I was not asked."

He nodded and made to approach Yevanna's room, but he stopped and turned back to her. "I know you do not like me, but I just wished to say that I am glad you and Yevanna have become friends. The other women are court are not…would not be good companions, I fear."

Sif nodded, unused to hearing gratitude from him. "Yes, Yeva and I just came from Sigyn's."

Loki frowned, a look of worry crossing his face. "What in the Allfather's name were you doing there?"

"Sigyn invited us to plan Her Majesty's birthday party. Look, far be it from me to interfere with your personal business, but you should really talk to Yeva before someone else does. I extradited us from the situation before they could make Yevanna say too much, but they were definitely fishing for a response."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She shrugged and turned back to her shield. Fine, she had tried, for the sake of her friend, to mitigate the disaster looming on the horizon. It was not her fault if Loki refused to listen. Now she would get to see his arrogance blow up in his face.

* * *

Half an hour after speaking to Sif, Loki found himself seated across from Yevanna at dinner with his parents, Thor, and Aetius. They were in the king and queen's private dining room, far away from the prying eyes of the court. Yevanna looked enchanting in a yellow gown and her red hair pulled back in a braid twisted around her head. Currently, Thor and Odin were in deep conversation with Aetius chiming in once in a while.

"So Yevanna, are you finding Asgard much to your liking?" his mother asked.

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty. Everyone is quite kind," she said.

Loki could tell Yeva wasn't telling the whole truth, but rather trying to be polite. He knew she liked Asgard well enough, but missed her home world.

"I'm glad to hear that, dear. Asgard is very pleased to count you among our family," the queen paused, taking a drink from her goblet. "Now, I am rather curious, are there any wedding customs from Alfheimr that you would like to incorporate into the ceremony here?"

Yevanna looked confused for a moment, as if she had forgotten that they would actually be having a public ceremony. Loki tried not to chuckle; he knew as far as his lover was concerned, they were already wed but his mother would not be satisfied unless she could plan the celebration of the millennia.

"I hadn't really thought of it," Yevanna finally said. "In Alfheimr, weddings are not very detailed events. Really, it is mostly an excuse for feasting."

"In the Central Plains," Aetius cut in. "We have a more sophisticated ceremony where the bride and groom have their hands bound together with linen after their palms have been cut. To symbolize the creation of a new family."

Loki didn't think that sounded more sophisticated, necessarily. "I, for one, would appreciate a wedding where neither of us are injured."

"When will you be holding the wedding, anyway?" Thor chimed in; it seemed his conversation with the Allfather momentarily forgotten.

Loki and Yeva looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Loki shrugged.

"We haven't really given it much thought," he said

"Perhaps, after this business with Jotunheim is over?" Yevanna ventured, looking to see his reaction to her words.

Loki for one didn't care when it happened. He wasn't overly fond of public ceremonies or feasts to begin with. Besides, he was confident in the fact that Yevanna was his; there was no rush to assure everyone else. Though of course, he did relish the idea of publicly declaring his beautiful Yeva as _his_. He wished to see the faces of all those who had called him too singular, to peculiar to ever be wed.

Frigga chewed slowly, a pensive look on her face. "Yes, I suppose that would be best. You both need to concentrate on vanquishing the enemy. Besides, it will give me more time to plan."

The conversation shifted then; Thor, Aetius and his father were talking about battle tactics. It was a conversation he did not feel like joining as Thor and he had markedly different approaches to the subject. Thor was brash and willing to throw all his troops at the enemy whereas Loki much preferred to lure them into a trap and demoralize them. Odin sometimes listed to his council, but with Aetius—who practically hero-worshiped Thor—in the conversation, he felt as though anything he could contribute would be over looked.

On the other side of the table, his mother and Yeva were talking about wedding plans, though he could tell Yeva was only doing so because the queen was so enthusiastic. He couldn't blame her though, from what she had told him, she hadn't given wedding planning a single though in over four hundred years. He didn't exactly feel like joining that conversation either. So instead he contented himself with observing those around him.

Thor was enthusiastic, as always. Not the least perturbed at the chaos waiting to engulf his home, nor had he bothered to worry himself about the fact that there was probably a traitor in their midst. Aetius was trying hard to agree with everything Loki's older brother said, but only managed to make himself look ridiculous. Honestly, Loki might have liked the elf a little if it wasn't for his fawning nature. Well, that was a lie; the Aetius' cocky self-centered attitude grated on his nerves. Not only because he hadn't proven himself worth of the attitude, but because he act as if he were a better general than Yevanna simply based on the fact that he was a man.

His father was reserved and solemn as usual. Quietly listening to Thor and Aetius and contributing every now and then, mostly to dispense wisdom and point out the young men's fallacy in thought. Loki was quite sure the Allfather had his mind on other matters that night and he didn't blame him. With his kingdom on the brink of war, a dinner party was hardly an important distraction.

His mother, on the other hand, was quite pleased to have something to divert her attentions away from war and death. Upon reflection, Loki realized that Frigga had focused all of her attention that evening on Yevanna and he wondered why. Frigga was one of the most compassionate people he had ever met and sometimes it was difficult for him to understand her emotions and motivations because of that. Her abilities of foresight and foreknowledge only made it more difficult for him to read her, though in truth she was one of the few people he was very close to. Loki wondered if Frigga was simply pleased to have a daughter to talk to finally; he knew she had always wanted a girl, though he and Thor had been more than a handful. Perhaps his mother enjoyed Yevanna's company for his sake, because she knew he loved the elvish princess. Or maybe the queen just enjoyed the younger girl's company; that was certainly the reason he liked talking to Yeva.

Yevanna herself looked to be having a pleasant time as she smiled and talked animatedly with Frigga, slowly becoming more enthused about the conversation topic. Every now and again she would catch his eye and he would wink at her, just to see her get flustered. He had been worried after hearing from Sif that Yevanna had spent the afternoon with Sigyn, not because he thought Yeva would be jealous if she founded out he used to bed the handmaiden, but because he didn't trust Sigyn's intentions. But it hadn't seemed as if anything was amiss when he walked Yeva dinner; she hadn't even mentioned it, except to say that most of the women at court seemed rather dull and thank the gods for Sif.

The main course of dinner was cleared away and the servants brought dessert. Suddenly his father shifted his attention to him.

"Loki, when you were in Jotunheim, what was your perception of the magical advantages the frost giants have against us?" The king asked.

Loki paused from his dessert for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I do not think they have any advantages of which we were not already aware. Their magic is focused on frost and ice, of course, always tricky to overcome but not insurmountable."

He paused, trying to not show shock at the feeling of a small foot traveling up the inside his leg. Glancing at Yeva quickly, he found her looking as innocent as always, though perhaps with a glint of mischief in her light eyes.

"But what of that box you found?" Aetius asked patronizingly.

Loki swallowed hard as she reached his inner thigh and brushing his member, "That is certainly not of Jotun origin—they're not smart enough to create something as powerful as what that box holds. They clearly obtained that artifact, whatever it is…ahem, from another source. I doubt they have anything else as powerful."

As he finished speaking, she pressed her foot against his rapidly hardening cock. What in the name of Hel's dark realm had gotten into her? He clamped his hand down hard on her ankle, trying to stop her before anyone noticed their little interlude. Yeva's eyes widened at his action but then she winked at him.

* * *

The dinner was wrapping up and Yevanna said her goodnights to the Queen.

"You must come have tea with me soon, dear. We have much to discuss," Frigga said before kissing Yeva on both cheeks.

"Of course, Your Majesty. I am completely at your disposal," she smiled.

Loki appeared at her side a moment later and slipped an arm around her waist. He bent down and kissed his mother's cheek, "good night, mother. Dinner was…pleasant as always."

Frigga laughed, "which is your way of saying you were completely bored." She waved her hand as if to dismiss him, "Oh do not worry about it. I know these things are tedious for you. Have a good night, both of you."

Saying their goodnights to Thor, who was on his way to the mead hall, and Odin, they were soon alone in the vast golden corridors. Loki tightened his grip on her waist and, after looking around, turned the corner into a smaller, empty hallway. One glance at the front of his trousers told her that her dinner mischief had been successful. His lips descended on hers as he walked towards her, backing her up into in the wall. He pressed his body into her, his throbbing erection hard against her stomach.

"Loki," Yeva moaned as his lips shifted to her bare neck and shoulders. "Anyone could walk by and see."

He nipped her throat as his large hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples through the light fabric. Yeva let one of her hands travel down his chest to rub the bulging front of his pants. She smiled to herself at the thought that it was because of her that he was so aroused.

"Just like anyone at dinner could have seen you trying to massage my cock with your foot?" He growled.

She giggled, her laughter echoing down the hallway. She was drunk on happiness and lust and it was entirely his fault. Yevanna was positively aching for him to be inside of her.

"You're the one who's always telling me to be more adventurous with my sexuality," as she spoke, Yeva unlaced the front of his trousers, freeing his cock and stroked him languidly.

"Oh gods, I've created a monster" he groaned, thrusting into her hand. "I did not mean in front of my mother!"

Loki tugged down hard on the front of her dress, ripping the fabric. He bent his head, dragging his tongue over the exposed nipple causing her to gasp.

Yevanna did feel rather guilty about her behavior at dinner, truly, though they had not been seen. She couldn't really explain what had possessed her to do such a thing; really it was quite bold for her. But all those lust filled looks and winks Loki had been giving her during the course of dinner were driving her mad. All she wanted was to give him a taste of his own medicine.

The sound of footsteps echoed at the end of the hallway and Yevanna froze. For all her bravo before, she really was uncomfortable with the idea of being discovered half naked with Loki's cock in her hand. A group of serving maids, no doubt on their way to clean the royal dining room after dinner, was slowly walking towards where they were hidden in the recesses of the wall.

Picking up on her discomfort, Loki whispered something that she could not catch and then a gut-retching feeling enveloped her senses. Seconds later they were back in his bedroom and she stumbled away from him to lean heavily on the small table next to his bed.

Yeva clutched her stomach, "that is never not going to make me ill. Could you warn me next time?!"

He righted himself and step towards her to tenderly stroke the curve of her cheek.

"Although I would not have minded the audience, I thought perhaps you would not have appreciated it," Loki's voice was low and husky.

A surge of pleasure ran through her at the thought of Loki having his way with her in front of others. It was not something she thought she would enjoy in reality, as made obvious to her reaction just moments ago, but the thought of it and the way Loki spoke so self-assuredly of it made her pussy wet with desire. She licked her lips.

"That is very considerate of you," she murmured, looking up into his emerald eyes which were dark with lust. "Allow me to return the favor."

With a smirk, she pushed him back onto his bed and knelt between his wide-spread knees. Yeva ran her hands up his thighs, letting her nails press into the flesh beneath before tugging his trousers off of his legs. Loki sat up slightly, resting on his forearms, in order to get a better look at what she was doing. He had suggested oral sex the night before, but she had been too nervous to try. She wanted to try now, emboldened as she was with desire.

Loki's eyes widened as he realized what she was doing. He reached down and lifted her chin up so she was looking at him.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Yeva."

She smiled, "I want to, though."

Yevanna took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Flattening her tongue against the base of his cock, she slowly licked him upward and enjoying his sharp intake of breath. When she reached the tip, she slowly swirled her tongue, lapping up his precum. She enjoyed the taste of him in her mouth. Yeva pulled away for a moment to lick her lips, making them moist and soft. Leaning back down, she kissed his pulsing head before slowly gliding her closed, wet lips down his shaft then back up.

Loki groaned and gripped the back of her neck with his hand. Yeva looked up at him, locking her eyes on to his as she opened her mouth wide and slipped the head of his cock in. She was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to get his entire girth into her mouth, so she concentrated on the most sensitive part. Yeva sucked hard and pumped his shaft with one hand, cupping his balls with the other. Loki's groans became louder as he tilted his head back in pleasure.

"Oh, Yeva," he gasped.

She could tell he was using every measure of self-restraint to not let go and thrust wildly into her mouth. Yeva could feel his hips trembling under her. Slowly, she relaxed her throat and moved her lips down his cock. She paused every moment or so to allow herself to adjust to him, her tongue massaging the hard flesh as she went. His thick length hit the back of her throat and she suck hard in order not to gag at the feeling, though she was enjoying herself. Her clit was throbbing and her thighs were coated with her own excitement. If she wasn't wearing such a cumbersome dress, she would have been touching herself; she ached to be touched.

Slowly at first, she started to bob her head between his legs letting the saliva from her mouth make him deliciously slippery. Picking up her rhythm, she moaned, hoping he would enjoy the vibrations. Loki's hips jerked, causing her to take more of him in. She smiled around his cock, pleased with herself.

"Aren't you a sight," he half moaned into the darkness, emerald eyes locked on her again. "One day so demure, the next the very picture of sexual deviance. Do like the taste of my cock, Yeva?"

She moaned a 'yes' onto his girth, enjoying the way it twitched in her mouth. He reached down a hand to palm her breast and tweak her nipple, making her aching center clench with desire. His other hand stroked the back of her head and neck. Loki was thrusting into her mouth ever so slightly, seemingly unable to control his hips. Yevanna found the feeling erotic; her pussy was aching almost painfully, crying out for his cock to leave her mouth and fill her completely. Sucking and licking her way up, she slowly pulled his member out of her mouth.

He swiftly picked her up, placing her on his lap as if she weighed no more than a cat. Loki swallowed her lips with his, kissing her ardently, urgently with a burning passion. She moaned into his mouth and crushed her body against his, begging silently to be taken. She could still taste him as she pressed her tongue to his. Grabbing the edge of his tunic, she pulled it over his head. Loki tried to unlace the front of her gown, but, after a moment of frustration, ripped it open and pulled it off of her arms. Yeva pulled away from him slightly, sucking his bottom lip as she did.

"You owe me a new dress," she panted.

"I will clothe you in gold and silver fabric studded with all the jewels of Asgard later. Right now, if you are not undressed in the next two seconds I will fuck you with this gown bunched up around your hips," he growled, his arousal evident in his voice.

Yeva laughed, unperturbed by the dark edge in his voice; rather she found it enticing when he became commanding in the bedroom. She stood from his lap and wiggled out of her skirts to stand completely naked before him.

"Get on your hands and knees on the bed."

He had managed to get his voice under control, she noted, doing as he bid. Her heart was beating triple time in her chest and her veins hummed with intoxicating arousal. Yeva felt the bed shift slightly as Loki knelt behind her, making her anticipation coil tightly through her belly. She gasped as he slowly slid his fingers up and then down her slick folds before moving away again.

"Loki," it was a moan of desire and a complained against him leaving her there.

She heard him chuckled behind her as he wrapped one arm around her waist, bringing them close together. His other hand rested against the curve of her hip, his cock between her legs, pressing against her sex.

Loki slowly rubbed his member back and forth over her folds, not yet entering her, "do you like that, darling?"

"Yes, oh gods, you're driving me mad," she breathed.

"Very well then," with one swift movement his buried himself deep within her.

Yevanna couldn't help the moan that tore through her throat at his movement. She gripped the sheets in balled up fists, nearly tumbling forward as he did so, only his arm securely around her waist kept her upright. Loki remained completely motionless for a long second after, giving her walls time to stretch around him. She could feel the beat of his heart deep inside her wet cunt.

Slowly, Loki began to move in and out of her, parting her pussy with his cock, pushing in as deep as he possibly could. As he did so, he placed feather-light kisses along her shoulders, the nape of her neck, her spine. Every time he thrust in, she rolled her hips back towards him, pushing his thick member deeper inside of her.

"Faster," she panted.

Loki obliged her request by pounding into her, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and their moans and sighs mixing into the night air.

"Do you like it when I fuck you hard, dearest?" He groaned in her ear.

"Mmmhhyeesss," she hissed, slamming her hips into his, loving the way he filled her up.

She also liked it when he talked dirty to her, and he knew it. It made her so excited to hear his elegant voice whisper such obscenities. He licked the column of her neck, causing her pussy to clench around his cock. She liked the press of his chest against her back and the way she could fit every bit of him inside her in this position.

"Touch yourself, Yeva," he more asked than demanded.

She hesitated if she would be able to stay upright if she did so.

He slammed into her and nipped the spot where her shoulder met her neck. She moaned as he licked his bit mark.

"Do it, I want to feel you shake around me. Don't worry; I'll hold you up," he whispered, gripping her waist tightly.

Balancing on one palm, Yeva reached between her legs and slowly circled her clit with her middle finger.

"Oh, fucking Hel," she moaned, feeling her orgasm build at the combined feeling of his cock deep inside her pussy and her own ministrations to her clit.

Loki matched her pace, slamming into her as she started to clench around him.

"Oh, ohhhloki!" She exclaimed, hardly able to comprehend anything besides the electricity surging through her pussy as he relentlessly pounded into her.

"Yes, darling, that's it! Ugh! Come undone for me," he groaned before sucking her earlobe.

Yevanna lost her balance as waves of pleasure crashed over her, her cunt squeezing and throbbing around Loki's thick cock. She was screaming his name and clawing at the blankets. He held her tightly against his chest, thrusting into her, timing himself so he moved _in_ just as she tightened around him.

With a primal roar of her name, Loki spilled his seed deep inside of her. She felt his head rest heavily between her shoulder blades as he thrust into her a few more times, his pace slowing as their orgasms receded. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the bed, their chests heaving as they gulped for air. Loki rolled off of her quickly, not wanting to crush her under his weight.

Rolling onto her side, Yeva reached for him. He gladly obliged, pulling her into his arms. Loki covered her lips with his, taking his time kissing her.

"The only drawback to that position is that I am not able to kiss your delightful mouth whenever I desire," he murmured.

Yevanna sighed in contentment and ran her fingers through his dark hair, happy to enjoy the feeling of him holding her.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she new, there was a booming knock on his door. A surge of adrenaline shot through Yevanna as she sat up, unsure what was happening. A moment later the door was thrown open and Thor burst in. Yeva shrieked and tried to cover herself with the blanket. Thor stopped mid step, apparently not thinking that he would find her in Loki's bed.

"Do you know NOTHING of privacy!?" Loki thundered, springing out of bed, unconcerned at his own nakedness.

"My apologies, Princess," Thor muttered, staring at her stupidly.

Yeva felt her cheeks flame bright under Thor's gaze. _For Valhalla's sake, why would he not stop looking?_

Loki snapped his fingers in front of Thor's face, "Redirect your gaze brother, and start speaking quickly before I quite literally throw you out!"

Thor blinked for a moment, processing Loki's words.

"Reports from the north. The Jotuns have sacked five villages along the coast. We are to assemble in the Council Chamber for our orders" Thor said in a rush of words.

* * *

**Well, that's chapter 16! I hope you enjoyed it. :) **

**On a side note, if you're not sure what Beowulf meant when he said Yeva "found it," you might want to revisit chapter Nine. **

**As for reviews, I want to thank everyone who's left one over the course of this story, as chapter 15 hit the 50 reviews mark! I am so honored that you guys find this story worth reading and commenting on! I would specifically like to thank Alice-Ann Wonderland, Fat Old Sun, ErinShore1, Loki'sdreamer, and ikatiecullen101 for your lovely reviews of the previous chapter. I also wish to let BooAngels know that I was tickled pink by your PM. **

**Further, thank you to everyone who added this story or myself to Alerts / Favorites! **

** Comments, questions, or concerns? Please PM or Review. I love hearing from readers. :) **


	17. Chapter 17: What about a 10,001?

**Sorry this chapter wasn't up earlier! My internet was acting super wonky and wouldn't load ffnet. In other news, I turned my thesis in on Monday so I'm done with that! Well, maybe not completely done because I also turned it in for publication, but I'll have much more time to write now. Huzzah! Part of this chapter is NSFW.**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: What about Ten Thousand and One?

Servants were still lighting the torches in the council chamber when Loki and Yevanna arrived. She had, in her hast, thrown on one of Loki's tunics and a pair of trousers that she belted tightly around her waist to keep them from falling down. Everyone present seemed blurry eyed and half asleep, she assumed they looked no different. A large map had been unfurled over the table with small blue cones sticking in a line along the top.

The Allfather waited for a few stragglers to arrive, including Theo who immediately moved to Yeva's side. Aetius was the last to arrive, looking quite elegant in full battle armor. If he was embarrassed at having taking so much time to dress when everyone else appeared to have just thrown on whatever was at hand, he did not give any hint to it.

"I am sure that you have all by now been informed of the situation at hand," the Allfather boomed over the chattering throng in order to capture their attention. "Five towns along our northern coast have been raided by Jotuns before they disappeared into the night. I want a field-army stationed five miles to the south of the central village. From there you are to ascertain not only the extent of the damage, but how these creatures entered our realm."

Everyone stood quietly, now that the Allfather had captured their attention, waiting to see who would be handed command.

"Loki?" Odin questioned, scanning the crowd for his younger son.

"Yes father?"

"How much ointment for the elvish soldiers have you been able to create?"

Loki paused, silently analyzing his work before speaking. "About enough for two thousand troops to have a month's worth. I can have enough produced by the week's end."

Odin nodded, digesting the information.

"Good, I want you to stay here and focus your energies on that, as well as coordinating the communication channels. Is that understood?"

Loki nodded, but Yeva could tell by the way he clenched his jaw he was not pleased about it.

After a moment Odin stood and walked towards the head of the table, gazing at the blue cones.

"Thor I wish you to take two thousand of your men along with Prince Aetius and Princess Yevanna, each with fifteen hundred troops, and make camp. The rest of you, I have a strong suspicion this was simply a test. I would like the remainder of the armies to make the city and palace ready for an attack and siege. Dismissed."

As the Allfather waved his hand to signal all should make their own arrangements, Thor and Aetius appeared at her side. All embarrassment at Thor seeing her naked early vanished as Yevanna shifted into commander mode. She wasn't aware of it, but she squared her shoulders and clasped her hands behind her back while she waited for Thor to deliver orders.

"Will tomorrow at dawn be enough time to make yourselves ready?" Thor inquired.

Yeva glanced at Theo for a moment, and upon his near imperceptible nod, turned back to Thor, "it should not be a problem."

"Aetius?"

The younger elf looked as if he wanted to object but thought better of it.

"I will be ready when you command."

Thor nodded, "Good. We'll meet in my chambers for lunch to further coordinate our mission. Until then, I suggest you try to get some sleep as there will not be much to be had on the road."

As soon as Thor and Aetius had gone, she turned back to Theo. "I think we need to review our troops and supplies before we meet with the other later. I will also need my armor inspected—mended if need be—and my personal items packed." She paused, looking out the window at the breaking dawn, "meet me in…two hours."

Theo ran off to put his own affairs in order and sent word to the company captains that some of the men would be moving out soon. Yeva sighed and ran her hands through her tangled hair; she hadn't bothered to brush it after getting out of bed, what a sight she must look. Glancing around, she found Loki standing near the top of the map, talking to his father in hushed tones. He looked upset, but Odin raised his hand to stop whatever her lover had been saying. The king said maybe a half a dozen words and walked away. Loki watched him go, arms hanging dejectedly at his side before he turned and caught her watching him. Yeva looked at away, hoping he wouldn't see her, but out of the corner of her eye she way him slip a cool, blank expression on his face; the damage was done.

When she looked back up, he was standing in front of her.

"If you wish, you may return with me to my chambers, though I doubt I will be sleeping. I have much work to do now," his voice was even and cool.

He could try to fool her but she knew there was anger brewing under his serene surface. Whether it was at his father for refusing to listen to him, or her for watching the intimate exchange, she wasn't sure. Loki could be vulnerable around her, but only when he chose to and that had not been a moment of his choosing. However, Yeva was fully aware that here was not the most opportune setting to speak to him about it.

"I fear I am so accustomed to your bed, I would find little comfort in my own," she said, trying to smile.

He nodded and offered her his arm without meeting her gaze.

* * *

As soon as he reached his bedroom, Loki dropped Yeva's arm and turned to his desk. If was being honest with himself, he wasn't really paying attention to Yevanna at the moment. All he could think about was his father.

_ "Father, I think I would be of more use with Thor, not back here."_

_ "Loki, I have made my decision and though I did not say it in front of all assembled, I need you to figure out what's in that box. You're taking entirely too much time." _

_ "But father—"_

_ "That's enough. My answer is no. You, of late, have been too distracted from your duties."_

For all his wisdom, the Allfather certainly was not very astute when it came to listening to others. Loki could easily do all Odin requested from the army's camp. But of course he wouldn't be allowed to go, no that honor would be reserved for Thor, as it always was. Thor, the golden son, who was ready to ride off to battle and save the kingdom. Not that, up until that point, Thor had bothered to worry himself about the fate of Asgard. Why could no one understand that perhaps his brother was not well suited for this mission?

Of course that thought wouldn't cross anyone's mind but his. No one really looked close enough at the golden prince to see the tarnish. Well, except Loki, but no one took him seriously. And why should they? It was clear from the Allfather's tone that he was still a child in the king's eyes; why would anyone else treat him differently?

"Loki?"

The timid sound of Yeva's voice brought him out of his thoughts. She was standing a little off to the side, next to his desk, as if she were unsure if she should approach him. He knew she had seen him arguing with his father. He was none too pleased that she had witnessed that moment of rejection, but he had been the one to initiate the conversation with his father in front of everyone.

"Yes, what do you want?"

He hoped his voice did not sound as sharp to her as it did to him. The look on her face told him all he needed to know however. He sighed and reached out his hand to capture hers. Loki pulled her towards his chair and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. His sweet Yeva, she was the only one who saw him.

"That was inexcusably rude, please forgive me, darling."

Yevanna gave him a watery smile, before sitting on his knee. Her light blue eyes searched his darker ones for a long moment.

"Are you going to talk to me about what is troubling you?"

Loki sighed and leaned his forehead against hers, unable to take her searching gaze any longer.

"In my father's eyes I will never be as good as Thor."

It was hard to admit that, to actually form the words and give them breath, even it was only Yevanna who heard him.

She didn't respond for a long time, Loki actually thought she wouldn't as the moments slipped by. He knew she cared, of course, but how could she understand? She was an only child, her father's precious heir. Sometimes he was resentful of that, though he hated himself for feeling so.

Yevanna pressed her lips to his and ran her fingers through his hair, making his scalp tingle. She always felt so good—so warm and soft—against him.

"You and Thor are very different, no one would deny that. But the idea of being_ better_ than someone else never made sense to me. You each have your strengths and weaknesses, and perhaps Odin is not as good at acknowledging or utilizing your strengths. But I think anyone who say's Thor is better than you has a very limited intelligence."

She kissed him again, her soft tongue pressing against his own.

"Loki, I love you. I would not trade you for ten thousand Thors," she murmured against his mouth.

He sighed, feeling relief wash over him at her voice. What would he do without her, indeed. While he still wasn't convinced he understood him completely, it didn't matter. She care and she empathized. It was more than enough.

"What about ten thousand and one?" He teased.

Yeva smacked his shoulder, laughing. "Do not push your luck!"

Loki wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close again. "You know I can't help myself sometimes."

Yeva pressed her face into the crook of his neck and sighed with contentment. He realized in a day from now she would be far away gone.

" I do believe you had better get some sleep before you leave," he murmured into her hair.

She sighed, "yes I suppose. Loki…will you lie next to me? Until I fall asleep, I mean?"

"Of course, darling," he said as he stood, carrying her to the bed.

He had many problems and much work calling his name, it was true. But what good was being alive if he didn't take the time to hold the woman he loved? Loki laid Yeva on the bed before climbing in. She leaned her head on his chest and entwined her leg in his. As she drifted off to sleep, Loki ran his fingers through her hair and stroked her cheeks, her neck. Her skin was smooth and pale, like marble, but much softer. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Yeva."

* * *

"I do not see why you cannot allow Loki to accompany Thor," Frigga said her husband as she barged his private study.

Odin looked up from his desk, and waved the servants away. "I wish you would not say such things in front of others. We do not need half the palace knowing when we disagree."

Frigga stood before her husband's desk and watched him, trying to read his mood. Mostly he seemed tired.

"And you know perfectly well why Loki cannot go with Thor," he continued.

She sighed, the fight going out of her somewhat. Odin was right on that account, if Loki were to come into serious contact with the Jotuns; well, she did not want to think on it.

"That did not stop you from sending him to the heart of Jotunheim," she snapped, not quite ready to give up yet.

Odin rubbed his forehead and sighed letting her knew he was tiring of the conversation. _Too bad_, she thought. Loki was her son and she was the only person who could hold Odin accountable for his actions. She had seen the look on his face when Odin turned away from him at the council; this was all she could do to keep her heart from breaking.

"I did not think the boy would be foolish enough to be seen. Thank the norns he was not touched!"

"He is not a boy, Odin. Loki is a grown man, ready to start his own family. You cannot keep treating him like a child."

"I am not treating him like a child!" Odin thundered.

Though she wanted nothing more than to shrink back from his outburst, Frigga remained tall and waited for Odin to calm himself. Running away would solve nothing, and he needed to know, for all his bluster, he was not getting out of the conversation.

After a moment the Allfather inhaled deeply, calming his anger. "I am not treating him like a child. What would you prefer? That I send him off to war and he discovers the truth about himself in the midst of battle? No, I will…_we_ will tell him, and soon. But not yet."

Odin stood and walked over to her. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he led her over to the golden couch in the corner of the room that was specifically for her use. Sitting, he held Frigga's hand in his.

"I know it is difficult, my love, but everything must happen in its time."

She sighed, her mind far away from the where they were. "I think the cruelest trick of fate was to make me goddess of marriage and childbirth when I myself cannot have children. Still, Loki, and of course Thor, I love as if they were my own. They are my own. I do not like—I have _never_ liked—keeping this from him but as always, I will defer to your judgment."

* * *

The northern provinces of Asgard were rugged and wild compared with their cosmopolitan heart. Fir trees jutting up to the sky as far as the eye could see, a broken coastline wrinkled with fjords, and wide lazy rivers that belied their depth and freeze were all around them. Yevanna took comfort in being out in the open again, away from the city with its artificial gardens and buildings of gold. The air was much crisper in the far north as well, cool and welcome. The villages were spread along the coast connected through the forest by overgrown paths. There was a marked contrast between the opulence and splendor of Asgard city and the quite subsistence of these outer settlements.

The army was camped in a in an open field of golden and amber grass, just a gap in the forest really, but it was sufficient for their purpose. Roughly five miles south of the middle most village which had been attacked, it was a good home base. They had arrived that morning and set up camp with Thor's red and silver tent—more portable hall that tent, really—at the center of a veritable city of cloth houses. Yevanna's simpler blue tent was nearby with her troops around her in orderly lines. Aetius was on the opposite side, which was probably for the best since they had done nothing but fight the entire journey. Today was not different; currently they were simmering across from each other while Thor tried to devise a strategy on the map spread before him.

"I still say that we send a detachment of troops to every village with patrols in between," Aetius snapped.

"That's completely unnecessary! It is madness to split the army into such small, isolated groups and it is unlikely that the Jotuns will stage such an attack again. You hear the Allfather, did you not?" She returned.

"It is better than sitting here and waiting for word from the capital. We need to show the Jotuns that we are strong!"

"All you are suggesting shows them only that we are idiots who do not understand how to manage an army."

"ENOUGH!" Thor thundered.

Aetius and Yevanna turned to look at Thor, as if they had forgotten he was in the tent with them. Yeva sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to calm herself down.

"I understand that both of you have your opinions, but I will remind you that the Allfather placed me in charge of this mission," Thor paused, making sure that they were listening to him. "As such, I agree with Aetius that we need to investigate the villages in question."

She opened her mouth to protest; surely he could see how stupid that suggestion was? Thor held is hand up, ending her cries in her throat. As much as she wished to voice her opinion, he was her commanding officer.

"However," he continued, one hand rubbing his chin. "I think Princess Yevanna is correct in saying that we do not want to waste needless resources. Therefore, I want you, Aetius, to take ten men and travel to Ostroburg and Vanhaven. Yevanna I want you to do the same but go to West-Tower-by-the-Sea and Ahelsiki. I will look over Osholm. Make sure to have a runner with you so we may communicate. Leave at dawn."

Thor dismissed them and Yeva headed straight for her own tent to prepare. She had to give Thor credit, he was fairly able at resolving disputes and the easy way he assumed his commands would be followed lent him to kingship. It certainly was smart thinking to take the best of both plans and send Aetius and herself to opposite ends of the map.

Theo was standing by the entrance to her tent and she motioned him in. Plopping down in a chair, he did likewise across from her. Her tent was sparsely furnished—no need to cart tons of baggage around the countryside—with a bed shoved in one corner, a chest, and wooden table with chairs for dinning. The most opulent addition to the space was not of her doing. The large bronze mirror rested against the central tent pole, a black velvet curtain currently slung over its smooth surface. All the commanders had them for emergency communication. When Odin had told Loki he wanted him in Asgard-City to oversee communication, these mirrors were what he had been referring to. They could project a message to a sister mirror in any of the nine realms, but it took a lot of magic and concentration. There was a room in the palace, or so Loki had told her, where the entire wall was smooth bronze. This was the mother mirror; sections of it could be utilized for different communications.

"What is our assignment?" Theo asked, taking the liberty to pour them each a goblet of wine.

She sighed, still trying to calm her annoyance at Aetius, and took a big gulp of the sweet liquid. "We are to take nine men and travel to the western most villages which were attacked to do some reconnaissance."

He nodded, "shall I put a team together?"  
"Yes, do please. Makes sure to include Haldris and Mikke—we should have a healer and a runner. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here. I'll need someone I can trust if the army is attack while I'm away."

Theo nodded, though she could tell he was slightly disappointed that he would not be going with her. They finished the jug of wine, talking about trivial matters before he sauntered off to give their top men the word to make ready to leave.

Yeva stood and started undressing; the sun was sinking beyond the horizon and the campfires were being lit. It was not late, but she had to get up very early, so an early night sleep was in order. Besides, being in the saddle for the past five nights had been horrible. No matter how many times she'd ridden the night through on a horse, she would never get used to it.

She pulled on a dark green tunic she had taken from Loki's chambers and climbed into the wooden bed piled high with furs. Sighing, it was painfully obvious now that the bustle of the day was dying that she missed her husband more than she wanted to admit. Yeva had not realized how accustomed she had become to sleeping besides him. It wasn't just his physical presence that she missed, she missed his smell, the sound of his voice in the morning, and the way he tired her so thoroughly at night. She missed his companionship and the way he teased her, though she would never say so.

"Oh for fuck's sake," she whispered to herself. "You'll only be gone at most a month. You'll live."

The night before she left, Loki had made love to her; it had been soft and gentle, like their first time. He had been slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers as he buried himself inside of her. Their breathing was in sync and Loki had caressed every inch of her body with his hands and his lips before he had entered her.

Yeva shifted restlessly, aching for her lover's touch. His scent filled her head from the tunic she was wearing. If Loki were here, he would tease her breast, tweeking her nipples into hard buds and rolling her flesh in his large hands. Yeva's hands traveled down to squeeze her breasts through the light fabric. Her nipples were already hard. Letting her hands wander lower, she stroked the planes of her stomach, the angles of her hipbones, pretending all the while that it was Loki caressing her.

His fingers would be rougher than hers, as the danced along her inner thighs. She was already damp with her own arousal when she dragged her finger slowly along her outer folds. Yeva's breath hitched in her throat as she imagined him kissing her lips, her throat, her breasts. Loki's lips always felt so good against her skin; they were thin but firm, cool but trailed fire in their wake. She slipped a finger inside of her pussy and pumped slowly, mimicking the way he would pump his fingers inside of her.

She thought of his hands; how she loved his hands. They were so big, and strong but elegant, his fingers endlessly long. Yeva loved the way his pale skin both hid and revealed the knot of blue veins just below the surface, how when his fingers were deep inside of her aching core—as she imagined now—she could feel his heartbeat on the tips of his hands through those veins.

Yeva increased her speed, as she plundered herself, adding another digit to make it feel more like him. She tried to quiet her breathing and stifle her cries but it was difficult, especially when she thought of the way he had pressed his mouth to her pussy the night before she left.

Oh gods, Loki had hooked her legs over his shoulders and flattened his tongue to lick her from slit to clit. She had practically cut her thighs on those sharp cheekbones of his as he fucked her pussy with his tongue and sucked on her quivering bud. Yeva slowly withdrew her fingers from her soaking cunt and stroked her clit, writing Loki's name on it with her fingertips. She pressed her face into the pillow to quiet her moan. Her hips bucked up to meet her fingers.

_If he were here, _she thought as she pushed the fingers of her other hand into her pussy, _ Loki would be inside of me, fucking me into the mattress, and telling me to scream for all the camp to hear. _

Yeva crooked her fingers in an effort to hit that delicious spot that the ridge of his cock always rubbed just the right way. She could feel her orgasm coming fast as her breath became erratic. Her hips lifted off of the bed as her pussy started to clench around her hand. She pushed her face deeper into the pillows to stifle her moans as the waves of pleasure broke over her. She came in an explosion of bliss with Loki's name on her lips.

* * *

Loki sighed as he slowly walked down the long, silent aisles of the palace library. He was hoping to stumble upon something he'd overlooked while trying to decode the mystery of the box from Jotunheim. He had poured over every book and scroll in his private collection and come up with absolutely nothing. Now it was time to widen his net. He was not accustomed to being this frustrated in a project and it was driving him completely mad.

He turned down a much neglected corner that led to books on the myths and legends of Midgard. Often the Midgardians were hopelessly stupid when it came to their awareness of other beings in the cosmos, but they _were _aware of them. Even a misconstrued reference was better than no reference at all. Loki quickly made his way past the mythology concerning Asgard—if he could not find what he was looking for within his own books, it was doubtful that the Midgardians would associate what he was looking for with legends of the Realm Eternal. Perusing the shelves, he pulled down a handful of volumes from various different cultures and languages: Greco-Roman, Babylonian, Sanskrit, Vedic, Chinese, Shinto, Celtic. The labels meant next to nothing to him, expect that they were different enough from each other that he had a wide base with which to start.

Resigning himself to another sleepless night, Loki sat down at one of the tables in the back of the library where he was less likely to be disturbed. On his left was the stack of books, to his right, a leather bound notebook and quill in case he felt the need to jot anything down. Loki sighed and grabbed the first book off of the pile: _Myth and Mythology: the Gods of Ancient Greece, Volume I._

Ten hours later, he hadn't made much progress. Well, that wasn't strictly true, he had made it through a pile of books, but nothing important was in any of them. Loki huffed in exasperation and shoved _Gods, Dragons, and Spirits of the Middle Kingdom_ away. All he wanted to do was go to bed and forget how dismally he was failing at simple research. But Loki was not one for giving up, besides, there was only one book left from his original pile: _Celtic Legends and the Ladies of Avalon_.

He sighed; it wasn't as if he had anything better to do that night. He was surprised how much he noticed his loneliness with Yeva gone. Normally, Loki was accustomed to being on his own—he had not realized how constant her presence had become to him. Opening up to the first page, Loki told himself that after this book, he would go to bed.

Ahelsiki was not much to look at, in Yevanna's opinion. The cluster of wooden and stone houses hugged a cliff at the edge of the sea on the far side, the forest encircling it otherwise. A small path through the forest led to the open fields that produced most of the villagers' food, though there were also a few craftsmen living here as made apparent by the blacksmith's forge at the end of the lane. It was certainly a far cry from the golden halls of the palace. As she scanned the scene before her, she could certainly see evidence of the Jotun attack. One house was completely destroyed—shattered into a million tiny pieces. Other buildings had varying degrees of damage. She wondered if the fields had been touched.

Some villagers walked by, seeing to their daily business. The distrustful looks their party was getting made Yeva wonder if it wouldn't have been better to take an Asgardian or two with her. It only took a moment to realize she and her men weren't from the Realm Eternal—while Asgardians glowed with a golden inner light, elves seemed to emit a silver luminosity.

Yeva dismounted a tied her horse up to the wooden post in front of the tavern. She motioned for most of the men to stay with the animals, and took Heldris with her to the large stone building across the dirt square. It seemed to be the most important building in the village if the fact that it was the only one made entirely of stone with multiple chimneys was any indication.

Upon entering, Yeva took note that the building itself seemed to comprise of a large open hall that had tables and benches around the central fire pit. A stairway led to a second floor and another down to the basement. A group of about ten adults were milling around the room, chatting in subdued tones. Many of them looked weary.

The sound of the doors opening and closing captured everyone's attention. Heads swiveled and eyes widened as the villagers took sight of the elvish warriors in their midst.

Yeva stepped forward and inclined her head towards them, her hand over her heart. "I am Yevanna of Alfheimr and his is my associate, Heldris. Prince Thor sent us to investigate the Jotun attack on your village."

"Alfheimr? You're an elf?" The question came from a man who appeared to be the youngest in the room.

She nodded, "yes, we hail from the Kingdom of the Western Woods."

After more introductions and a few questions, the lead villages, an older man by the name of Beowyn, told them of the Jotun attack.

"It happened in the middle of the night. They came from the woods, the fields I think, but we're not sure. They destroyed the house of Roderic Osricson and caused most our crops to wither under their frost. We don't know what they wanted…they just appeared and then they were gone."

Yeva nodded, digesting the information, "you said they came from the fields? May I have a look?"

The fields were as Beowyn had said: black and grey and utterly dead as far as the eye could see. There was a path of destruction leading away into the forest. Clearly, however the frost giants had arrived, it was not done here. Ahelsiki would not hold the answers she was looking for.

She turned to the head villager, "thank you for showing me; it's been quite…illuminating. My men and I will stay here for the night then carry on to West-Tower-by-the-Sea tomorrow. Does the inn have lodging enough for all of us?"

"There is room enough for your men, but you must stay at my home, milady."

"I wouldn't want to impose," she murmured.

"I insist. My wife would be horrified at my lack of hospitality if I did not offer you our best bed."

It took some convincing, but after Yeva had seen her men and horses settled, she found herself in a large wooden and stone house near the main building. Curiously, the main living quarters were built into the ground two floors down. Though she was told that less wealthy house builder would only have one sub-floor. The ground floor was reserved for storage. Beowyn explained that this kept the inhabitants warm when the winter winds blew. Yeva was equally surprised to see the youngest man from the council room was Beowyn's son, Axel.

The night passed pleasantly enough. The lady of the house, on top of being an excellent cook, was very kind and welcoming. Beowyn as well, though he did ask many questions about Asgard-City and high politics that Yeva did not feel she was up to answering, seeing as she herself had only been in Asgard for a few weeks and part of that had been spend in Jotunheim.

"You've been to Jotunheim?!" Axel asked excitedly.

She gave him a weak smile; it seemed the young man was itching for an adventure. "Yes, but only for a short time. We definitely overstayed our welcome."

They were sitting around the fire, after dinner. Yeva had offered to help clean up, but her hostess had refused.

She tiled her head towards the fire and pointed at the webbed scar on her cheek. "That's how I acquired this. Jotun blood is dangerous to elves."

"How did you get it," he asked, eye wide in wonder.

Yeva paused, not sure how much she wanted to tell him; she was trying to keep her rank as little known as possible. Most of the commoners she had interacted with that day had been wary enough of an elvish sword-maiden; if they found out she was a princess and wed to a son of Odin, she doubted she would be able to have any useful dealings with the villagers. They would be too frightened.

"I killed one of King Laufey's guards," she said simply, ending the conversation.

* * *

Loki's eyes were heavy as he paged through the book; the warrior women of the tales reminding much of his own wife. By the gods he missed her; stroking his own cock and thinking of her soft mouth was just not the same. But no, even that would have to wait. He had promised himself that he would go to bed, but only after this damnable book was finished.

Scanning the words and seeing nothing important he flipped the page. A shot of adrenaline pulsed through him as Loki's emerald eyes widened. There on the very next leaf of paper was a picture of the moon over a silver lake; it matched what was carved into the box exactly. Excited, he leaned forward to read.

* * *

**I made up the names of the books Loki was reading, but it's possible that there are similarly titled volumes. Given how late this chapter was, chapter 18 might be a few days later than usual as well, but I'll try my hardest to get us back on track to updating on Saturdays. **

**I got so many lovely reviews this time around! Thank you all! It's so nice to hear what you think about this story and hear about yourselves! I'd like to thank Shannon, Shard-01, Moonlight Calls, HarryPotterFreakie, and "Guest." Further, I'd like to thank Loki'sDeamer for her lovely PM. **

**For any one who followed or added me or this story to their favorites / alerts, thank you! **

**Comments, questions, or concerns? Please review or PM. **


	18. Chapter 18: Not Just Honor

Chapter Eighteen: Not Just Honor

The trail of destruction caused by the Frost Giants was fairly easy to follow through the thick forests of northern Asgard. Yevanna and her men had the village left at dawn and headed towards the blacken fields, though not before she promised to speak to the Allfather about sending shipments of grain for the winter. She had to admit to herself that it was nice being back in a forest, surrounded by trees on all sides, though admittedly this forest was not _alive_ in the way she was used to. The trees of Alfheimr whispered as the elves moved through them; gently bending and turning to make their journey easier. If these trees were sentient, they were sleeping very deeply.

The frost-black scar wound its way through the forest, the path wide enough for two horses to ride abreast. Yevanna was thankful for that; trying to get the horses through the thick underbrush would have been more hassle than it was worth and the road between the villages curved too far to the south to be efficient. The noon-day sun was just barely visible through the canopy of leaves and needles, but its warmth did not permeate the forest floor. She shivered, though not from cold. This forest unnerved her.

"Let's rest the horses for a while," she called.

They must have been about half way or more to West-Tower-by-the-Sea and it seemed like a good enough place as any to stop for lunch. After dismounting, they tied their horses up to the nearest trees and dug into their supply packs. The tavern in Ahelsiki had been happy enough to take their gold, though Yeva had felt badly about taking readily available food out of the devastated village. Still, her men needed to eat and their supply rations had been low.

"Ah! Fucking Hel!" One of her men cried from near the edge of the path.

Yeva shot up from her seated position hand on Eld's hilt and ready for an attack. The men did likewise, everyone on high alert. After a moment, Mikke, her runner, stumbled into the camp clutching his hand. She ran over to him.

"What the name of the Allfather happened?" Yeva barked.

Mikke held his hand out to her; his palm was blackish blue with the veins raised and throbbing. Her left cheek twinged with memory; it looked like a Jotun attack.

"Are there frost giants present?" She demanded.

"No, my lady. I touched a stone," he replied with pain laced in his voice.

Yeva motioned for Heldris to apply the ointment Loki had developed to Mikke's hand, as she muddled out his statement. After a few moments of vigorous rubbing, the color turned a pearly white and his veins sunk back into the skin. Yeva could see the tension drain from the elf's face. The color change would be permanent, but it was better than losing a hand to frostbite.

"Does it hurt?" She inquired.

"No, my lady. I can't feel my palm though."

She nodded, unsure what to say. This was her first confrontation with an injury like this; her cheek was similar, but Loki wasn't here to minister to the wounds.

After making sure he was alright, Yeva had Mikke lead her a little ways off the path to show her what had happened.

"I just saw this," he pointed a stack of stone piled waist high with the earth was blackened in a ten foot diameter around it. "When I touched it…it felt like my hand was on fire."

She could feel the cold radiating off of the little pile. Yeva moved closer and crouched down to inspect the pillar, careful not to let it touch her skin. By all other measures it looks fairly ordinary. The rocks could have been gathered from the ground nearby. There was nothing inherently special about it, except for the frigid air rolling off of it.

Suddenly, the top most stone rose off of the pile and spun in mid-air with the pillar itself glowed an unearthly blue.

Yevanna managed to scramble back just in time as a Jotun appeared right where she had been standing.

* * *

_The Lady of the Lake is the ruler of Avalon according to the King Arthur legends. She is always a force of good, balanced against that of Morgana le Fey, the half-sister of Arthur. She often aids the king and his Knights of the Round Table on their various quests more often than not in a deus ex machina capacity. She is most famous for giving King Arthur his sword, Excalibur. But she also raised Sir. Lancelot and gave to Sir Pelleas a magical necklace which would make the wearer unfathomably loved. These are her most commonly associated objects, though there are a few others that appear in later cycles. She is the sometimes lover of Merlin, the most powerful magician of the Arthur tales. _

_The Lady of the Lake has many names, though she is more commonly known through her title. Her symbol is an apple—either red or golden—or a full moon over her lake (pictured above). _

Loki paused from his reading; the details did not matter much, but he was pleased to have discovered objects associated with the symbol. Unless that box had some serious spatial magic built into it, he doubted it contained a sword. That left the distinct possibility that it was holding a necklace that made the wearer beloved by all. Well, that was certainly useful when one was planning on conquering an enemy land like Laufey was. Loki wondered where in Hel's name the frost giants had gotten their hands on it though. Or where it came from; its association with this mysterious Avalon begged the question of where there were more than nine realms. Loki's head swam with the possibility and he tried to ground himself in the current moment. In all likelihood, it was dwarven made; whenever he managed to open that damnable box, he would have Baldric take a look at the necklace, if indeed that was what was inside.

Perhaps it had to do with whomever the Frost Giants were working with from within Asgard. He was almost certain there was a traitor in the House of Odin, though few wished to believe him. When he had been sneaking through the halls of Utgard, he had overheard two guards mention that "the golden one was so demanding, he was lucky that Laufey didn't cut his pretty head off" and that the "message from the golden one had arrive earlier that day." Loki could be wrong—but he probably wasn't. 'Golden one' could easily refer to a son or daughter of Asgard given their predilection for golden objects and the golden glow most of them gave off. The only problem was that it could literally be anyone outside the royal family—he didn't want to consider the possibility that it was someone from within his own family. Clearly, it was a male, as well, as made apparent the guards pronoun usage. Well, that narrowed down his list of suspects a little. It was probably someone from the court—they would need to have both access to travel and the political ambition to betray Odin.

Loki rubbed his forehead and sighed. It was best that he figure out how to open the box before he let his mind get ahead of him. Back to his room it was, though he doubted he'd get that sleep he'd promised himself. He had been thinking of new spells all day which would hopefully tempt the wood to unhinge.

"Hello Loki."

He jerked his head up at that honey-sweet voice, irritated at the interruption and even more so when he saw who was standing before him.

"Sigyn," it wasn't a greeting.

She was standing in front of his table, in a demure light green gown. Given the time of night, he doubted her intentions were as innocent as her clothing and soft smile suggested. He closed the book in front of him, as a large part of his brain screamed at him not to trust her. He hated seeing her wearing his color so boldly.

"Can I help you?"

She smiled at him, a dazzling smile that a year ago would have disarmed him completely. Now it simply put his senses and lie perception on high alert. "I though perhaps you could use some company…with everyone gone, that is."

"You know I enjoy my solitude," he said.

He was trying not to be outright rude to her. Though why he did so, he wasn't sure; she certainly didn't deserve politeness after how she had treated his wife.

"Loki, I trust you know that _I know_ exactly what you enjoy," she purred.

"Then you know I shall have no pleasure until my wife returns."

"Wife? You're calling her wife now? I'm hurt I did not get an invitation to the ceremony," Sigyn circled the table and stood right beside him.

He sighed, and decided to try a different tactic. Loki did not feel like explaining his relationship with Yeva to her.

"Sif informed me of your little tea party, you know. Yeva may be kind enough to overlook your rudeness, but surely you must know I have no such restraints."

Sigyn's eyes darkened and narrowed for a moment; once again Loki could see her true face laid bare.

"Sif should mind her own business," she snapped.

He laughed at her, "now the real Sigyn comes out to play."

"Don't be cruel," she sniffed.

Running her fingers through his hair, she yanked his head back and smiled at the groan of pain he made, taking it for one of pleasure.

"I have half a mind to kiss you," she whispered against his ear. "You used to love my kisses."

Loki released a crackle of magic straight at her chest and knocked her backwards, forcing her to release her hold on him. Sigyn scrambled up quickly and glared daggers at him, utterly shocked that he would resist her. He rubbed the back of his head; her grip was a lot less gentle than he remembered.

"It seems cruelty is the only thing that you understand. I've tried being kind to you, indifferent, even, but it has not worked as your attempt at seduction tonight has more than painfully demonstrated. I am happy with Yeva; nothing you could do would persuade me to dishonor her."

"If all she is to you is honor, then I do not see—"

"Enough," he snapped, growing tired of the conversation. "She is not just honor, but I doubt you want to hear that I make love to her every night and she pleases me like no other has. I do not think you would like to hear that I hope to have my child in her womb someday. Or that she understands me more than anyone could simply because she has a gentle heart and is willing to listen. I highly doubt you wish to hear that I finally understand love and compassion for another person because of Yeva. Is that what you wanted to hear, Sigyn?"

She looked as if he had hit her with magic again and he wondered why now, after all this time, was she trying to ensnare him back into her bed. It simply did not make sense. Sigyn had had ample opportunity before Yeva had arrived in Asgard and he had not yet realized how much he loved her.

"Are you working for someone, Sigyn? Is someone making you do this?" He asked softly.

The only thing that made sense was if someone was putting her up to it. He did not expect her to answer after he had gone off at her, but it was worth a shot. Something was rotten in the House of Odin.

"Don't waste your pity on me, Lie-Smith," she hissed before turning on her heel bolting down the quite shelves.

Loki watched her go and wondered if it would have been worth it go after her. If nothing more than to warn her not to repeat their conversation; he did not need the court to hear that his hard exterior was beginning to melt, or that he suspected more than one traitor. No, he decided. She had always enjoyed making him chase her and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Besides, as irritating as Sigyn had been, he couldn't image she was wrapped up in this business with Jotunheim.

* * *

Before the Frost Giant could even register that he had appear within a company of elves, Mikke plunged his sword through the Jotun's eye, killing him stone dead.

"Why did you do that!?" Yeva yelled in frustration.

"He is…was an enemy," the other elf stuttered.

Yeva took a moment to calm her breathing and tried to tell herself that Mikke had just been trying to do his duty; that the Jotun could have killed her just as quickly.

"We might have been able to get information from him," she ran her hand through her hair, destroying the tight braid. "I do not know how Jotuns dispose of their dead, but burn the body; I don't want that thing lying around."

She stalked away, back to her horse and left him to figure out how to dispose of the body without touching it too much. Calming down, she tried to look at the positives: at least they knew how the Frost Giants were traveling to Asgard. Though how they had developed the technology or if they had Asgardian help, as Loki believed, she could not say. The cold stone pillars were clearly teleportation devices of Jotun origin—their frigid temperature indicated as much, but the rocks seemed to be native to the surrounding area. She wondered how many soldiers could push through one at once. The villagers had indicated that bout thirty or fifty Jotuns had crashed through their homes, but if they appeared all at once or had to materialize one by one, again it was impossible to say.

Yeva cleared her throat and waited for her men to take notice of her. "Change of plans, we will make camp here tonight to see if anything else ventures out of the cold stones. If not, we shall travel to West-Tower-by-the-Sea to continue our investigation. Do not kill on sight unless necessary; I wish to gain information from the Frost Giants if at all possible."

The warriors around her saluted and busied themselves with setting up camp. They were probably not too happy to hear that they would be sleeping on the ground instead of an inn bed, but at least she would be right here with them in their discomfort.

The night itself was cold and quiet, save for the wind howling through the trees. Mikke had a Hel of a time trying to burn the Jotun corpse—the body started to melt as soon as it was placed over the flame, making the fire go out. After a while, Yeva just told him to bury it and filed away the experience in the back of her mind for possible use later. Otherwise, the pillar did not glow blue nor did any Frost Giants appear. Yeva was slightly disappointed that she had missed her chance at gaining information. She felt as if the entire mission was wasted, though she tried not to be too sharp with her men about it, it was not their fault, nor, really was it Mike's. Perhaps Aetius or Thor were faring better.

As she looked out in the black of the forest, Yeva's mind turned back to her father and her homeland. She wondered how King Theoderic was doing, _what _he was doing. If Beowulf had been executed or sentenced yet or if he was still rotting away in prison. It was difficult to sent messages between worlds, and only was only done in the direst of times, so she had not been able to exchange letters with anyone back home. Yeva supposed that no news meant the situation was fine, more or less. She tried not to worry, but she had a sour feeling in her stomach that told her something was not right.

* * *

Theoderic looked down at his nephew who was kneeling before the throne, hands bound behind his back. Beowulf was dirty and disheveled; though the king had asked servants to clean him up for his sentencing. Apparently the boy had refused and Theoderic wondered, not for the first time, if the insanity was a mask for something more insidious.

The great hall was full to bursting with courtiers and citizens of the city, all wanting to see the mighty Lord Beowulf brought low. How would the king react to a traitor within his own family? Would he get a light sentence or a severe one? Theoderic wished that this could have been done in private, but Princess Melisende had demanded justice be public.

The raven-haired woman stood off to the side of the dais, next to, but not on, his daughter's throne. Her face was cautiously blank of emotion and he wondered if he had done the right thing by allowing her to enter is kingdom. Yevanna had never trusted the woman, claiming that Melisende was after their lands. But he had never been threatened by her actions; that was until now. There was something unsettling about her attitude. She had demanded, upon her arrival, of meting out the punishment herself. He had calmly informed her that Beowulf had yet to tried and sentenced, but once that had happened, she was welcome to attend. That had not been enough for her.

Tearing his thoughts away from the foreign princess, he looked at his prisoner. Taking a deep breath, he stood.

"Lord Beowulf, you are charged with murdering Lord Ibelin of the Eastern Shore by stabbing him through the heart. While you have confessed to us and a number of witnesses, none of them are currently within our borders. Further, your confession was given under emotional duress. Therefore, your guilt must be ascertained through the ordeal."

He heard the young elf's sharp intake of breath; there were many types of ordeals, none of which were pleasant to participate in. The court was positively abuzz with whispers—which type of ordeal would he have to endure? Fire, water, coals?

"Normally," he continued, raising his hand to calm the noise. "Normally, your high rank would be sufficient to afford you the right of compurgation or a surrogate, however due the severity of your alleged crimes and the lack of witnesses to the situation, we strip you of those rights."

The silence around the great room was deafening. If Lord Beowulf could be stripped of the protections afforded to him by nobility, anyone could. A few nobles shifted uneasily. There had not been such severe sentencing since the days of when darkness walked the land. Theoderic was clearly not going to let his own blood of easily.

Theoderic sat down and motioned the guards standing at Beowulf's back. They cut the rope around his wrists, but made sure he stayed kneeling. A black velvet pouch was brought out to him which contained three ivory tiles with the different ordeals painted onto them. Beowulf reached a heavy hand into the sack and rummaged a round. After a moment he pulled a tile out, but held it tightly in his hand, afraid to see what fate had dealt him. Time stretched forward, and an eerie quiet descended upon the court as they waited. Eventually the guard nudged him in the ribs and Beowulf opened his hand.

"Coals," he rasped into the silent-as-a-tomb hall.

Theoderic nodded his expression blank. "Take him back to his cell. The ordeal will be tomorrow at dawn," he turned to his steward. "Start a bonfire in the courtyard—nine feet long and one foot wide. Keep it burning all night, the coals must to be hot at dawn."

* * *

Thor rubbed his chin as he listened to Yeva's report. It had been a week since he sent the elves to investigate the towns that had been pillaged by the Jotuns. Yeva was the first to report back, although his scouts informed him that Aetius was fast approaching from the opposite direction.

"You say the Frost Giants have been building portals into Asgard, Lady Yevanna?"

She nodded, "yes, though I do not know how."

She had informed him of the fate of the one Jotun her man had encountered and also that they had not found much in West-Tower-by-the-Sea, only reports of the same nature: that the Frost Giants had come from the forest. The only real bit of news was that they were finished marauding, they turned back the way from which they had arrived. This led Lady Yevanna to believe that they had originated at the strange stones she described to him, and moved out from there. But it also meant that they needed to return to the stones to get home. Either they had not been able to build more, or whatever magic held the portal together dictated that you must come the way you came.

"I think the Allfather was right. It was a test of sorts, to see if the magic would hold given the lack of activity after the initial attack," she mused.

Thor nodded. He was glad the elvish princess was with him. The way she thought and her shrewd insights reminded him of his brother. He sighed, as much as Yevanna was helpful, he wished Loki could have been with him; it had been a longtime since his brother had not been at his side in battle. Hopefully, though, that would not be the case for long. Once he informed his father of their findings, he expected to return to Asgard-City. His mother's birthday was coming up after all and she would demand to have them back.

"The real problem is, if this was a test, what is their final plan?" She continued, "I would say Asgard-City, but how would they set up those portals right under Heimdall's nose?"

"Perhaps Loki is correct in thinking that someone from within the palace is working with them, though I hate to think on it."

He could hear rustling outside and a moment later Aetius entered the tent. He nodded to Thor and sat down.

"My Lord, I have not much to report, only that both villages said the Jotuns came from the forest. I could not find their origin."

Thor saw Yevanna roll her eyes and he stifled a chuckle, she and his brother were not overly careful let their dislike of the eager young warrior go unnoticed. "I see. Lady Yevanna might have discovered an origin and I found similar clues during my investigation. Yeva, would you mind sending your runner to ascertain if there were similar structures? I was the one that discovered them, yes?"

She nodded, a smirk on her lips—no doubt at being asked to fix Aetius' mistake, and turned to find her soldier. As soon as he received confirmation about the pillar, they would head home. After filling Aetius in quickly, Thor dismissed him and turned to the bronze mirror in his tent.

Thor rubbed the smooth surface with a massive hand and watched as the metal rippled under his touch. "Brother, are you there?"

A moment later Loki's pale face appeared framed by the bright sunlight of the mirror chamber.

"Yes Thor. What have you to report?"

Loki sounded tired, but that was nothing new. Thor was used to finding his brother exhausted from a week straight of not sleeping if he was interested—or baffled—enough in his research. Certainly that silly box from Jotunheim had kept him up all this time.

"Inform father that we will be coming home soon! Lady Yevanna has been most clever; she will present to the council of our findings before the Queen's Birthday Feast."

The exhaustion melted away from his brother's face and was replaced with one of pride to hear that Yeva had been the crucial to the investigations.

"Father will be glad to hear it, I think and Mother will be delighted, of course."

Thor nodded and laughed. "So tell me brother, how goes your work? You look as if you have been diligently studying."

Loki gave him his usual tight-lipped smile. "Yes, I actually made some progress, but I would rather tell you of it in person. I do not wish to be overheard."

Thor waved his hand, "of course, of course! I will you see you soon. And hopefully after Mother's birthday, you will join me in the field!"

There was a soft tap at the heavy fabric at the entrance of his tent.

"Come in!" Thor called over his shoulder.

"I've sent Mikke west, he's a fast runner-oh!" Yevanna stopped mid-sentence as her eyes settled on Loki in the mirror.

Thor grinned to himself as a cunning plan entered his head. "Actually, Lady Yevanna, while you're here, why do you not explain your findings to Loki?"

His grin widening even more, Thor slipped out of the tent as Yeva approached the mirror with a soft smile on her lips.

"Hello Loki," he heard her purr.

"Hello darling," Loki whispered back and Thor had never heard his brother's voice sound so tender.

* * *

**(This first paragraph is just going to be filled with apologies :/ ) Sorry about the lack of smut in this one. I thought about adding a Loki masturbation scene, but I couldn't really make it work. :/ I promise there will be naughty times in the next one though ;-) This was sort of a filler chapter to build up to what's going to go down in a few chapters from now :) Also, if there are a weird amount of errors, I'm sorry. I had a migraine while I was editing this, so I couldn't really see what I was doing. -_-* Depending on how dead it is at work this week(end) I will hopefully be back on Saturday posting schedule. **

**Cultural / Historical notes: Haven't had these in a while, have we? For the Lady of the Lake stuff, that was mostly from memory / wikipedia. Now, Beowulf has to go through an ordeal which was an early medieval legal trial. The idea was that the accused would do something harmful (i.e. retrieve a stone from a boiling pot of water) and if their wounds were healing within a certain amount of days, god had intervened to show the person's innocence. If the wounds weren't healing (or infected), then they were guilty. Mostly commoners / peasants had to do the ordeal, whereas lords either had the option of using a surrogate or compurgation. Compurgation is basically getting twelve peers to swear your innocence, which is trickery than it sounds, but still a lot better than having to walk over hot coals. But Beowulf doesn't get those options because Theoderic pissed. **

**I'd like to thank A Fearless Knight's Fairytale, HarryPotterFreakie, ikatiecullen101, shard-01, and Loki'sdreamer for your lovely reviews :) They always make me smile like an idiot when I get the notification email. I'd also like to thank anyone who added this story (or me) to their favorites / alerts lists. **

**Comments, Questions, Criticisms? Review or PM me **


	19. Chapter 19: Welcome Home

**Part of this chapter is NSFW ;)**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Welcome Home

Loki was sitting at his desk, the carved black box in front of him. He had been testing different spells for unlocking it all week and so far nothing had worked, though he had blown a hole into the palace wall the size of an elephant. His mother had not been pleased to say the least, but the Allfather had let it slide because they learned that the box would rebound destructive magic. All other types of spells it just seemed to absorb and Loki was frustratingly at a lost as to what to do.

"Smälta," he whispered, hoping to melt the wood.

A cool jet of blue energy trickled off of his fingers and around the box, for a moment it glowed blue, like it should. He heard a sucking noise and the web of magic disappeared into the black surface.

In a fit of rage, Loki hurled the damned thing against the far wall; he had about a second's notice to dodge out of the way when it flew back at him with just as much venom.

"Fucking Hel! How do you open?" He yelled in frustration.

"Talking to yourself already? I've only been gone a month."

His head turned to the familiar voice, heart racing in anticipation. Yeva stood in the doorway, a wide smile on her red lips. She was clad in her preferred trousers and a dark blue tunic with gold embroidery, her red hair pulled back in a simple braid.

"Yeva," he breathed.

Without a moment's hesitation, she flew across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her close, reveling in the feeling of her soft curves pressed against his body once more. Gods she felt good. Yeva pulled away a little and Loki let his hands slid down her ribs to rest against her hips.

"When did you get back?" He asked.

"Just now, I came right here," her voice was breathy and light.

Yeva's smile was soft and a little blush danced across her cheeks for admitting how much she missed him with that reply. He peered into her light blue eyes and for once was the one who became enchanted and lost in her gaze. Yeva ran her hand up his chest, up his neck, to caress his cheek with her thumb. He could hear the hitch in her breath and the increase to her heartbeat.

He closed his eyes and turned into her touch, enjoying the delicate scent of her skin. With a gentle tug, Loki pulled her close to him again and pressed his lips to hers. Yeva moaned into his mouth as he licked her lips for entrance and pressed her body flush against him. The curves of her breasts and the way her hips rolled into him made cock throb. He had planned on having some level of self-control and waiting until that night to bed her. But when Yeva's small hand boldly squeezed his erection through his breeches, all his self-control melted.

Loki deepened the kiss and slowly walked her backwards until her thighs hit the edge of his desk. In one swift movement he picked her up and set her on the desk's surface; Yeva obligingly wrapped her legs around his hips and rubbed her already hot core against his stiff cock. Loki growled in pleasure and disentangled his arms and mouth from her for just long enough to pull his tunic over his head. Yeva ran her fingernails down his chest and back up his back, leave little red lines of pleasure in their wake. He hadn't realized how much he missed the feel of her skin on his until now. His hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, rolling his hips against her and enjoying her gasps of breath. By all accounts, their love making was shaping up to be fast and desperate this time around. No that either of them seemed to mind.

Loki moved his hand to her mound and cupped her through her trousers, pressing his fingers against her clit. He could feel the warmth radiating from between her thighs and the fabric of her trousers was already damp with her arousal. He could hardly wait to rip them off of her.

"Oh Loki! I've been too long without you inside of me," she purred against his neck.

Yeva's fingers were quickly unlacing the front of his trousers. Getting them open, she yanked them down far enough to free his cock. Throwing tenderness out the window, Loki ripped her pants off her hips and down her knees. Stepping between her thighs, he rubbed the tip of his cock against her soaking cunt.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, on this desk," he purred into her ear as her nails dug into his biceps. "I'm going to fill up that tight pussy of yours and make you ache. Are you ready?"

He knew his Yeva became excited when he spoke vulgarly to her because it was so disjointed from his usually polite tone. As he stroked her face gently, Loki observed that her eyes were dilated and her cheeks were beautifully flushed with desire. Her arousal was practically dripping on his desk, much to his delight.

"I already ache for you," she whispered before leaning forward and licking the shell of his ear.

Loki groaned and with a snap of his hips entered her. Yeva cried out and arched her back, baring her neck to him and pushing herself farther onto his cock. His cock was met with a tight, wet heat as her lower lips parted and stretched for him; it made his head swim.

"Oh Yeva, how I've missed you, darling." He murmured as his mouth found the soft flesh of her neck.

He kept up an unrelenting pace, encouraged by her sighs and moans and the way she met each of his thrusts with a delicious little roll of her hips. Yeva gripped his ass and pressed him deeper into her hot pussy as she sucked on his neck. Loki filled his hands with her heavy breasts and squeezed hard eliciting a sharp nip on his shoulder. He smirked at her response and teased her nipples. Though her tunic was a silky barrier between them, it felt wicked to take Yeva while they were both half clothed—his pants were still around his knees after all. Loki cradled her jaw in his hand and kissed her hard, lips sliding together and tongues entangling. He sucked on her bottom lip as she ran her fingers through his hair, causing his scalp to tingle pleasantly.

"Oh Loki," she moan and rolled her hips to meet his thrusts.

With a quick little movement, she disentangled herself from him to pull her tunic off her body and threw it on the floor behind them.

He could feel his orgasm coming on—it was unbelievably good to be back inside of her tight cunt—but he forced himself to concentrate on making his lover come undone first. Loki pushed her back until she was lying across his desk and hitched her legs around his waist. Gripping her hips in place, he picked up his pace as he slammed his cock into her tight center, reveling in the sound of flesh hitting flesh and the way her breasts bounced for him.

She gripped the swell of his hip and begged "Oh, faster, yes…just like that. Oh Looooki."

Her moans of delight and the way her sweet pussy clenched around his cock made his balls tingle in anticipation. "Oh Yeva, are you ready to come undone for me?"

He didn't wait for her moaned 'yes'; Loki knew exactly how to push her over the edge. Circling her little bundle of nerves viciously with his thumb, he smiled broadly as Yeva raked her nails down his chest and arched her back in response.

"Oh…oh gods. Loki!" Yeva's mouth formed a perfect 'oh' of pleasure as her pussy clamped down around his cock in earnest, milking his own release from him. By Valhalla she was so tight when she came that he almost couldn't move, though he loved to ride her through her orgasm. Leaning down, Loki pressed his lips to hers moments before he spilled his hot seed deep within her womb.

They stayed motionless, foreheads pressed together, as their breathing and heartbeats slowly returned to normal. Her skin was covered with a delicate pink flush and few love bites that made him want to take her all over again. Yeva kissed him softly, pressing her lips across his face and neck and stoked his back with gentle fingers.

"Welcome home, darling," he whispered.

* * *

Sigyn studied the unsightly purple bruise that radiated out from her chest. She was lucky the bolt of magic Loki had shot at her didn't break her sternum, but it was still painful. Rubbing the tender flesh, she turned away from the mirror before closed her robe about her. Why had she let _him_ talk her into doing this? All talking to Loki brought her was pain, both physical and emotional.

She had asked the queen for the day off from her duties, feigning exhaustion from arranging the feast all week. Really though, _he _wanted to talk with her. Dressing quickly, she made her way down to that frightful little room he kept and entered without knocking. He was seated at the small table, pouring over a dusty tome similar to the one she had seen Loki reading in the library a few nights ago.

"Good day, Lady Sigyn. How is your mission going?" His voice was calm though with an edge of mockery.

"You know very well how it is going, which is to say, not at all. He's completely in love with her." Her voice was more petulant that she would have liked, but at least it did not hold the note of pain saying those words made her feel.

He turned to look at her where she stood in the door way—she had not wanted to venture into his lair further than necessary.

"And why, pray tell, is that a problem?"

She stared at him for a moment, unsure if he was being genuine with his questioning or just cruel. Cruel, she decided, after seeing the twinkle in his bright eyes; Sigyn was so sick of cruelty.

"I believe I saw him reading that book," she nodded in his general direction. "Though he closed it before I could see what page he was one…somewhere near the back, I do believe."

He stood and stalked towards her; it took all her self control to not run from that room and never look back. He stood before her and tilted her chin up so she had to meet his intense gaze.

"I already knew that. What? Did you think you're my only little dove? I have many and some of them watch even you. You are not, I hope, thinking of backing out of our little arrangement, are you?" His voice took on a hard edge and his grip on her chin became painful. "Because, given how much you know, how much you've seen, I would hate to have to kill you."

Her eyes went wide in horror. "Of course not! Only, I did not anticipate that it would be this difficult."

He relaxed his grip on her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know, little Sigyn, I know. Bu do not worry, when my plan becomes reality, you'll have him all to yourself."

Sigyn frowned, both sicken by his touch and not sure if what he offered was entirely what she desired anymore. Of course she loved Loki, and wanted him to acknowledge and reciprocate that love again but was it really worth all the pain? It was so hard to confront him again and again only to hear how much he loved Princess Yevanna. And it wasn't as if _she _had ever done anything to Sigyn—they had booth been forced into their current positions by the whims of great men.

She realized he was still watching her. She gave him a small smile. "I know; I simply become overwhelmed on occasion."

"Good girl. Now run along; I have much to think about."

He gave her a sound smack on the backside as she hurried from his dark chambers. Later, when she returned to her apartments she scrubbed her skin raw trying to get the feeling of his hands off of her.

* * *

Yeva smiled at Queen Frigga as the older woman invited Yeva to sit across from her. It had been no more than a day that she was back from the expedition with Thor and the Queen had asked her to tea, probably to discuss wedding preparations. The messenger had come dangerously close to discovering her and Loki in their compromising position atop his desk. Even thinking about it brought a flush to her cheeks, but she had wanted him so badly Yeva would have let Loki take her in the great hall if that was where they had happened to meet. They had just barely managed to put their clothes back on when they had heard the knock on the door.

The queen's apartments were lavish, like the rest of the glittering golden palace, with more rooms leading off of a main hallway than Yeva could count, though she caught sight of a private library, solarium, conservatory, music room…the list went on and on. She wondered if Odin stayed in this complex of rooms as well, or if he had his own.

"I am so glad to see that your mission to the north was successful," Frigga said as she filled their cups with fragrant tea. "Thor was here just this morning telling me all about it. Have you yet presented your findings to the council?"

Yeva took the delicate cup and let it rest in her lap before answering. "No, not yet. I believe the Allfather will call the council tomorrow…I need time to prepare my thoughts, anyway."

"Yes, I suppose. Now dear, I was hoping we could work out some details in regards to your upcoming nuptials."

Yeva coughed a little on the tea she was sipping. "Of course, if you would like to, my lady."

Frigga chuckled a bit at Yeva's reaction and set her own cup down. "Will you wish have another ceremony in Alfheimr?"

"Yes, though it will not be very elaborate considering—" Yeva stopped suddenly, realizing that she had almost told Frigga that she and Loki were already married in the eyes of elvish society because of their, _highly active_, sexual relationship.

Frigga raised a sculpted eyebrow at Yevanna's sudden stop. "Considering?"

Yeva looked at her hands twisted in her lap as she felt a blush creep over her cheeks and down her neck.

"I would much rather not say, my lady."

Instead of giving her a scolding, as Yeva expected from the mother of her lover, Frigga threw her head back and laughed. "Do not worry yourself my dear. I know enough about elvish culture to guess at your anxiety. But in truth, I am simply happy my son had found a woman with whom he is happy spending the rest of his long life."

Yeva chanced a glace up at the Queen and smiled shyly. "I am glad of it too, your majesty."

"Now on that note, I imagine that you and my son might be requiring a certain degree of privacy not currently afforded to you in your present lodging situation. I've talked to Odin about it, and we think as soon as my birthday celebrations are over, the both of you should move into a suite of rooms nearer to the royal residence."

Yeva blushed at the sexual insinuation, but could not deny that she had hoped to officially share a room with Loki soon. After all, she spent most of her time in his chamber as it was.

"I…we would like that very much, your majesty."

"Excellent. I will have the Star Chambers cleared out. You'll love it, my dear. Most of the ceiling is of the purest glass which gives you lovely views of the sky, especially at night."

While they finished their tea, Frigga kept up a gentle conversation of safe topics; everything from the weather to innocent court gossip. Yeva wondered if this was what it was like to have a mother. She liked Frigga very much, the woman was easy to talk to and one of the kindest souls Yeva had ever met. The queen was warm and welcoming, even if the young elf had little experience with etiquette or making general conversation.

Once they had finished their tea Frigga smiled. "Now my dear, I have a number of different details to go over with you. I'm assuming you're not well acquainted with the Asgardian wedding ceremony?"

She shook her head, "not really. Loki has not had much time to explain it to me."

Frigga laughed. "No, I can't imagine him thinking to do so. But do not trouble yourself, I shall walk you through all the steps. Now, if you'll follow me," she stood. "I have some samples for you to choose from."

Yeva followed her over to the large balcony where a number of different tables were set up. Frigga motioned her over to one.

"Look around and let me know what things you like, I'm trying to decide how to set up the banquet tables. Also, you will need to design a crest so I can have it emblazoned on the china."

They spent the rest of the afternoon looking over tableware and Yeva found herself having much more fun that she would have believed. By the evening, she had most options narrowed down to two or three that she would show to Loki for his opinion. Though she doubted he would be particularly excited to do so. She laughed a little to herself, thinking about Loki trying to decide what type of tablecloth they should have—it just did not seem like something he would do. Though to please her and his mother, she was sure he would, despite his grumblings.

"Now, I was hoping while you back in the capital, I could schedule some preliminary appointments between you and my royal tailor, so they may start designing your gown."

She bowed her head slightly, "of course, my queen. Tomorrow is not very busy. I should have much of the afternoon free, depending on how long the council meeting takes."

Yeva was not one to wear gowns, really, but it seemed to mean so much to Frigga that she couldn't find it in herself to say so. Surely, she'd be able to work out a compromise though.

"Oh wonderful! Why do you come to my apartments whenever you finish."

Yeva nodded and took her leave, though not before Frigga placed a kiss on her forehead. "Have a good night, dear. Give my love to Loki."

Yevanna smiled to herself as she walked down the quite, golden corridors, pasted the stone still guards. She could completely understand why Loki was so close to his mother, after spending the afternoon with the Queen. She was giddy with excitement, practically bursting at the seams to tell her lover that they would be moving into their own residence soon. She could hardly believe how happy she was. Though it was not as if she had been terribly sad throughout her life, now that she had Loki, Yeva could see how lonely she had been. She just hoped this happiness would continue.

* * *

The bleak light eking over the horizon was a perfect match for the heaviness that had settled in Beowulf's soul that morning. Though he had made arrangements, they would not be carried to fruition until his execution. Unfortunately for him, today was only his trial.

The guards had come for him long before the sun had thought to rise and roughly roused him from his sleep, tying his arms behind his back. When they reached the courtyard, he saw most of the court assembled in a wide circle with Theoderic seated on a makeshift dais before a strip of white hot coals. The heat rising off of the coals was enough to make Beowulf sweat, though only moments before he had been freezing cold in the dungeons. The magnitude of what he was about to do hit him hard and he thought he might retch bile— as there was nothing left in his system after many days of the gruel and water that was served in prison. Beowulf stared at the coals, their hissing and sizzling singing to him a twisted song straight from his nightmares.

"Beowulf, one time lord of the Northern Reach of the Western Woods, you are brought here to prove your innocence (or guilt) regarding the murder of Lord Ibelin of the Eastern Shore. To do so, we order you must walk from your current place to stand before the throne of justice. If, after three days, your flesh is showing signs of repair, you will be considered innocent. However, if you are not healing by the ascribed point, we will find your guilt undeniable. Are we understood?"

Beowulf nodded and licked his lips. "Yes, my uncle."

Theoderic made a signal with his hand and the ropes were released from around Beowulf's wrists. He bent down and removed his boots and socks. When he stood, his hands were retied around his back.

"You may begin," Theoderic intoned.

Beowulf took a gulp of air to steady the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. This would hurt and there was no way around it. After what seemed like only a moment's time, one of his guards nudged him sharply in the side and Beowulf realized that the sun was much further up in the sky that when he had last looked at it. He shook his head to focus himself; he could not afford loose time right now.

Fixing his eyes on the throne, he took his first step.

The heat bit into his flesh so hard he thought he might pass out. Digging his nails into his palms and forcing his straining his wrists against his bonds for focus, Beowulf bit down on his tongue and took another step, trying to make sure his toes did not grip into the coals. His legs were long, hopefully he could make the nine yards in as many steps. Another step and Beowulf could hear his skin crack and sizzle. Resolutely he kept his eyes on the throne before him—every step brought him closer. Another step. The aroma of cooking meat filled the air and it took him a moment to realize that it was his own flesh making that smell. He really did gag then, but managed to keep the contents of his stomach down. His pause in movement cost him dearly though as the excruciating heat licked his bones making them crack and blacken.

He was almost there, just one more step and the agony burning up his legs would be over. Beowulf heard his tendons pop and snap. He made the mistake of looking down and saw his flesh melted like candle wax down his exposed bones. As he tried to put his foot down on the blessedly cool surface he stumbled and fell, sprawling before his uncle's throne. Vicious curses spewed from his mouth as the guards fell on him. He could hear neither the shouts of the crowd nor Theoderic's words as he was carried away, hopefully to have his feet bandaged. As the men carrying him rounded a corner, his left foot slammed into the stone wall blinding him with pain until a moment later he fell into the dark embrace of oblivion.

* * *

Yevanna squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose before re-reading the report she had written for what seemed like the hundredth time. Thor had asked her to prepare the official report while they had been riding back, saying it make more sense for her to do so, as she was the one who put two and two together about the stone pillars. She had agreed to, though Yeva had been wondering why she and Loki did not have to make an official report after they had returned for Jotunheim. Sure, they had informed the war council what had happened, but there was none of this bureaucratic nonsense that time around. Thor had simply stared at her for a moment and then said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, that their trip to Jotunheim had been a spy mission and one does not make council reports on spy missions. Yeva supposed that made a degree of sense, though she still thought that her father's form of rulership was a lot less complicated and much more hands on.

She sighed and stood, as certain as she was ever going to be that the report had the right details and explanations. After gathering her papers, shed headed for the council room. Loki had left earlier that morning when the Allfather and called for him and Thor. Yeva was sure he'd tell her what the summons was about, though she couldn't help being more than a little curious. The messenger had said it was important.

Entering the war room, Yeva was relieved to see that she was not the last to arrive and many council members were still milling around the room or chatting in small groups. Before she could locate her husband, Thor appeared before her, a wide grin on his face.

"Lady Yevanna, are you ready to present?" he clapped a large hand on her shoulder, "of course you are! Do not be worried, I will confirm all that you have to say."

She smiled at him, "You are in an exceptionally good mood today, Thor."

He laughed. "Very true, dear sister! Though I am not allowed to say why as of yet."

The last of the stragglers arrived, including Loki, and the Allfather motioned for them to take their seats. After getting the initial business out of the way, Yeva was invited to stand before those assembled and give her report. It was surprisingly less difficult that she thought it would be. She read straight off of her parchment and told them basically everything she had already explained to Thor, Aetius, and Loki. Fielding questions afterward as simple as well; for the most part, everyone seemed to understand the gravity of the situation and what she had explained. Thor corroborated her report as he had promised, though she hardly needed him to.

After she took her seat, the Allfather stood.

"Now that we have a better idea of what the Jotuns are capable, we need to consider what their next move shall be. It seems that Prince Thor and Princess Yevanna are correct in surmising that the attack on the north was a testing. The most logical explanation seems to be that they will try a similar invasion of Asgard-City. Now, how do we defend against it?"

There was a long pause while those assembled seemed to mull over the Allfather's words.

"My valkyries will be able to patrol the skies in an effort to see if any of these stone pillars are erected within the capital," Freyja said in a breathy voice.

"If we find them, we should destroy them," a dwarf farther down the room said.

"We can help with that," One of the men from Muspelheim hissed out.

"Father, I think it would be greatly beneficial if Loki could examine the pillars," Thor ventured, looking a little abashed.

Yeva wondered about that look, but did not have much time to dwell on it.

"Yes, perhaps that would be best. Thor, you will take your brother and _small_ detachment of men and ride north after the Queen's birthday tomorrow. Though it does not seem dangerous at this point, we do not want you caught in an ambush."

Yeva glanced at Loki to see if he was pleased with the new announcement—he had been so upset about not being allowed to accompany Thor last time. He definitely did not look happy. Instead his jaw was clenched and he was pointedly avoiding looking anyone in the eyes. Yeva wondered if it was because Odin had order Thor to "take his brother along" or if it was something else.

After it was settled that Thor would leave with Loki, Yeva, Lady Sif, the Warriors Three, and Lord Baldur two days after the Queen's celebration, the council was closed. Though Yeva had meant to speak with Loki, she was distracted for a moment by Sif.

"Yevanna, how are you?" Sif asked.

"Very well, and yourself?"

"Well. Look I had planned on taking a short riding trip to the Golden Forest tomorrow morning—it's just on the outskirts of the city. The Queen's handmaidens want me to help coordinate the preparations for the banquet, so I thought I'd best make myself scarce. Would you like to join me?" Sif asked with laughter in her voice.

Yeva laughed and happily agreed, before turning to find her lover. Unfortunately Loki had slipped away before she could find out what was causing him such discontent. As much as she wanted to seek him out, Yeva had an appointment with the Queen's tailor in preparation for her wedding gown.

The royal tailor was a woman by the name of Ingrid, who peered at Yeva through a round pair of golden spectacles that were perched on her hawk-like nose. For once, Yeva had been asked to wear trousers, so that Ingrid could more easily obtain her measurements. When she had arrived in the queen's chambers, the two women were bent over a long table examining the different fabrics strewn about. A detachment of handmaidens and assistants eagerly hovered around them, waiting for orders. Three massive gilt mirrors had been set up at angles to each other with a large wooden platform set before them.

"Please stand on the box," Ingrid said without turning around and waving her hand absently behind her in the general direction of the mirrors.

Yeva did what she was told and waited with a sense of dread building up in her stomach. A few minutes and one box of red fabric being sent away later, Ingrid turned her sights to the elvish princess.

"Oh my, look at her hair! Darling please take it out of that unsightly braid; I need to see what I'm working with."

Yeva did as she was bid, letting her red waves free to cascade down her back to her hips.

"Much better, darling." Ingrid murmured as she circled Yeva like a hawk.

The woman made her a little comfortable, especially by calling her 'darling'. That was Loki's name for her, and she felt odd hearing it from anyone else's lips.

Frigga sat down on a comfortable looking golden couch and flipped through a purple leather bound tome, occasionally marking a specific page. Yeva assumed it was some sort of fashion book—she had seen a few of them when Loki had showed her the library, though there were no such things in Alfheimr. Ingrid continued her circling, all the while pulling Yeva's limbs this way and that, taking her measurements while her assistant furiously scribbled notes at a nearby writing desk.

"Hhhmm legs are athletic, though that was to be expected. Nice wide hips," she lightly tapped Yeva's rump making the young elf jump. "Good for bearing sons, eh? Not very tall, but that's fine. Your Majesty, I believe a gown highlighting her lovely hourglass figure would be best."

The queen agreed and the rest of the afternoon was spent in a flurry of fabric being draped around her and sketches hung all over the wall. Yevanna had never felt more overwhelmed and uncertain before. What in Hel's name was ruching? Just how many yards of silk did one need to make a dress? Her head swam at how many different shades of purple there could be, let alone all the colors of the rainbow. She left Frigga's chambers much later than she had hoped to and with the sour feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach. Truly, she would be happy to marry Loki in her armor—though she doubted that would be allowed. For him, maybe, be definitely not for her.

The moon was full and shining on the golden halls of Asgard, and though the city was lively down below, the stately rooms of the palace were silent. In all probability, its inhabitants were preparing for the celebration tomorrow. Yeva had not really had time to think about the festivities and luckily for her, Frigga had seen to it that she had something appropriate to wear. Slipping into Loki's chambers, she found her lover already fast asleep, a frown fixed on his face. She felt badly that she hadn't gotten the opportunity to speak with him at all that day, but there was always tomorrow.

Stretching, Yeva pulled off her clothes and sat at Loki's desk to pull off her boots. She blushed a little, thinking about their recent activities on the piece of furniture before her. She had enjoyed the way he welcomed her home. As she moved to rest her hand on the hard wood of the desk, something clattered to the floor. In alarm, she looked to see if the noise had woken Loki, but he was still sleeping soundly. She bent over to retrieved whatever it was; her hand wrapped around a small, hard square. Bringing it into the moonlight closer to the balcony, she saw it was the box from Jotunheim. What a troublesome little thing it had turned out to be, though if Loki were correct in his guest about what it contained, it was very valuable indeed.

Leaving it on a little table in the moonlight, she climbed into bed and snuggled as well as she could into Loki's side.

* * *

Loki was not in a good mood and it was only compounded by the fact that he had to be at this mind numbingly dull banquet. He had not seen Yeva all day—she had left a note on her pillow explaining her outing with Sif—nor anyone really. Since speaking with his father the day before, he wanted nothing to do with a single soul in all the Nine Realms. But of course tonight he had to suffer through hours of polite chit-chat and celebration. To top it off, Yeva was late and he was receiving disapproving looks from his father for it.

At the moment, all the court was assembled out on the grand pavilion behind the great hall which looked over the gardens, and further, the city. The royal family was standing on a dais that had been erected for them. Dinner had not yet been served, although hor d'oeuvres and drink had been served for hours while guests arrive. Everyone was waiting for the fireworks to begin. If there was one thing he would enjoy tonight, it was the fireworks—he had spent months engineering them to create beautiful tableaus in the sky. Fire magic was something with which he had always been particularly good. Adjusting the green velvet mask perched on his nose; he looked up at the black sky.

The first explosion was a bright shimmering cloud of gold, followed by red and green. As the courtiers ooh and aahed, he stiffened as a warm arm wrapped around his waist. Loki looked down to see Yeva—recognizable by her fire kissed hair and pointed ears—at his side. She smiled up at him from behind a golden mask. All the rage and anxiety threatening to burst from below his frozen exterior calmed a little to see her bright blue eyes illuminated by the purple and gold explosions above them. His mother had really outdone herself when picking out Yeva's gown for the evening. Though he knew his lover did not like to dress like a lady, he thought she looked stunning whenever she chose too. She was wearing an ivory gown with delicate gold lace running in an intricate pattern across her torso and down the different layers of the skirt which trailed behind her. In a moment of weakness, he kissed the sliver of pale skin peaking between mask and hair and pulled her close to him.

The colors above shimmered into the form of a peacock complete in blues, purples, and greens followed by a fiery phoenix and finally a perfect replica of the queen's crown on a bed of silver roses. Everyone seemed quite impressed as the finale—an allegory of the queen's life—boomed above their heads in a rainbow's explosion. When it was over, he received many complements as the court filed into the great hall for the banquet, although he did not care whether or not anyone liked it but his mother.

Dinner was a deadly dull affair. The loud chatter of the room was annoying but the conversation at the high table where the royal family sat was strained. It seemed the queen was none too pleased with Odin for speaking the way he had to their sons. Thor, on the other hand, seemed not to realize anything was amiss and continued to shout jovially across the hall. Yeva seemed to have figured out something was wrong, but she could not put her finger on what. After a few attempts at drawing him into conversation, she gave up a focused on her dinner and watching the crowd before them.

After the many toasts and speeches to the queen's health, the long tables were cleared form the center of the room for dancing. The orchestra appeared along the edge of the room, ready to enchant the court well into the night. They would all be expected to dance the first dance, but after that he hoped he could dissuade Yeva from dragging him on the floor. As soon as he was able, Loki planned on slipping away. Judging by the set of his mother's jaw as Odin led her onto the dance floor, Frigga was planning the same thing. It made him feel a little better about his situation, but then again, his mother usually took his side in matters.

Going through the motions of the waltz were easy enough once his body adjusted to the rhythm. Loki's eyes glazed over the mob of faces around him and he wondered how many of them would be relieved to hear what Odin said earlier.

"Loki? Loki have you heard a word I was saying?"

He looked down distractedly to see Yeva's blue eyes peering up at him through her golden mask with an air of annoyance surrounding her.

"No, I did not. My apologies," he muttered.

She frowned at him, clearly hurt. "I was just saying your mother suggested we move to new chambers which would afford us more privacy."

"Is there anything the matter with my chambers?" He asked, still not completely focusing on Yeva's words and he spun her around the room.

"Well, no. But that's just the thing, they're your chambers not ours. Besides, it would be nice to have more space, yes?" She reasoned.

"This not, I think, the best time to talk about it," Loki said.

"Fine," her tone was annoyed, bordering on upset.

A few dances later and they were still seated at the great table, though Loki could tell Yeva wanted to dance, she couldn't very well ask someone to dance with her, and no man would dare approach her while Loki was still at her side. Or so he thought.

"Brother! Would you mind if I stole your lovely princess for the next dance?" Thor boomed.

"Of course not, Thor," he said without looking at either of them. _You always get what you want anyway._

Yeva glanced at him as she stood to take Thor's offered hand, but didn't say anything. Loki watched them; what a lovely couple they made, he thought uncharitably, as Thor rather clumsily lead his wife around the room. When Yeva returned, she stood next to him.

"Will you dance with my again, Loki?" Her voice was soft and perhaps a little sad.

"I don't really feel like it right now, Yeva," he answered, refusing to meet her eyes. "Go as Fandral, why don't you? He prefers other men's wives."

She sighed audibly and grabbed his hand, forcing him out of his seat. "That is _it_. Come on."

Without waiting for his reply she pulled him out of the great hall, ignoring the startled and disapproving looks some gave them. Marching down the hallway, she didn't stop until they were back in his chambers, safely out of earshot. For his part, he let her take him; he did not want to be around anyone as it was. Once the door was closed she dropped his hand and whirled around to face him.

"You are in a perfectly foul mood tonight! Are you going to tell me what ever is wrong or ignore me for the rest of the night? I wish to know so I can plan where to sleep accordingly."

Her eyes were bright with fury and her pale skin flushed, though her mask still prevented him from seeing most of her face. Loki reflected that he had not seen her so angry since she realized he had tricked her into marrying him.

He sighed, realizing she was right—he had been acting badly towards her and for that he felt guilty. Loki pulled off his mask and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking it out so it fell around his face. He searched her gaze for a moment longer, before turning away, unable say what he had to say while looking into those pale eyes.

When he spoke his words were no more than a whisper. "The Allfather, in his infinite wisdom, has informed me and my illustrious brother that as soon as the war with Jotunheim is over, he will abdicate the throne and Thor will be crowned king of Asgard."

* * *

**I think this is my longest chapter yet! I think the only notes I need are to say that "Smälta" means "melt" in Swedish (at least according to google translate). I know I explained the Ordeal in the last chapter notes, but if you've got questions, just hit me up :) I looooove talking about medieval law. **

**I'd like to thank ktmt1120, A Fearless Knight's Fairytale, Loki'sdreamer, and Alice Ann Wonderland for your lovely reviews. And a further thanks to anyone who added me or this story to your alert / favorite lists. **

**Finally, I really must thank my tumblr friend, Jen, for beta-ing the Beowulf section. I'm always super nervous when I do something horrible to my characters. :/ **

**Questions, comments, concerns? PM or Review **


	20. Chapter 20: What Am I?

**Part of this chapter is NSFW ;)**

* * *

Chapter Twenty: What Am I?

Loki's words hung in the night air, ominous and full of pain. Yeva paused, biting her lip, knowing that what she said next was certainly not going to help.

"But surely…I mean…wasn't Thor always going to be king? He is first born."

She did not understand why he was so upset, but when Yeva saw the slump of his shoulders she realized perhaps she did not know her husband as well as she thought.

"Even you, Yevanna?" His voice wasn't cold, or angry, simply disappointed.

She knew she had to do something, anything. Yeva felt as if she had suddenly been cast into the ocean with stones tied to her feet; if she could not find something to cling to and soon, she would be completely swept under. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward until she was less than an inch from him. Cautiously, slowly, Yeva reached a shaking hand to touch his back—he needed to know she still loved him because right now she wasn't sure if he did.

As her hand touched the green velvet of his tunic, Loki stiffened and hissed, but did not pull away. Slower than the spring thaw of Jotunheim, she slipped her arms around his waist and let her head rest between his shoulder blades.

"I do not understand, my love. Help me understand before you turn me away, please," she begged.

The silence of the moment stretched out towards eternity; Loki did not move, nor speak. They simply stood together in the darkness and Yeva began to give up hope. As her hope fled, she held him closer, wanting to burn in her memory forever the feeling of Loki in her arms, the smell of him, the feeling of his body pressed against her. Just as she was resolved to pull away, to let go and recognize she'd royally destroyed their happiness with her insensitivity, she felt the faintest brush of fingertips over her clasped hands.

"I have always admired your hands, darling. So capable of such carnage and injury but also dainty and elegant," he sighed heavily. "We jumped into our relationship quickly; well, rather, I pushed you into it and I have become so accustomed to you in my life that I sometimes forget that you are new to this Court and it's dynamics."

Gently, Loki unclasped her hand from around his waist so they rested on lightly at his sides and turned to face her. His face was stony except for the glimmer of tears collecting in the corners of his emerald eyes. Yeva sucked in a painful breath; her heart aching that she had made her husband hurt in such a way. Loki pulled off her mask and tossing it carelessly to the floor where it clattered dejectedly. He stroked her cheek with his thumb wiping away tears she didn't realize had fallen in the process. Taking her face between his large hands, Loki placed a delicate kiss on her forehead.

"I would never send you away," he murmured into her hair.

Without another word, he took her hand and led her to his bed where they sat, side by side. Loki took a deep breath and prepared himself to divulge some of his most internalized and repressed emotions.

"My father once told Thor and myself that we both born to be kings and this was a constant theme throughout my formative years. While I have always known Thor would be king because he is oldest and, truthfully, more like father, I was raised with the tantalizing idea that I could be king, if I just tried hard enough. If I was able to prove myself worthy. I have never been Thor's equal, not in Odin's eyes or the eyes of the court. His decision simply formalizes that. There was never any hope for it, really. Just a lie I was foolish enough to believe."

Everything offhand remark Loki had ever made about his brother or father became abundantly clear. Though she had always known there was some uneasiness between Loki and Thor, she had never realized just how deeply those feelings ran. Tentatively she entwined her fingers with his.

"It irks me to no end, however, that father thinks Thor more suited to the throne. He is brash, careless, and battle hungry. He prefers to act first and think later. I do not understand how no one can see he would make a catastrophic king," his voice was full of bitterness.

Yevanna squeezed his hand in hers, "but he'll have you as an advisor. Loki he listens to you more than anyone. He trust you."

Loki smiled wryly. "Listening to me and doing as I advise are two different things where Thor is concerned. Besides, he will resent anyone who says that I rule from behind the throne. The court and the people do not want me."

"Don't you remember what I called you the first time we made love? You will be a king, _my king_." She spoke softly, hoping her words would be enough. "We'll rule the Western Woods together. We'll hunt goblins and hold court. You'll make love to me under the solstice moon and bring magic back into the world. My people will love you because I love you."

He sighed heavily. "I know, darling, but the Western Woods is not Asgard."

She pulled away from him and wretched her fingers out of his grasp, anger bubbling up inside of her. "Is my kingdom not good enough for you? It is not the Realm Eternal, but it _is_ my home as surely as there is blood in my veins and breath in my lungs."

"That is not what I meant!" He said in exasperation.

"Well, it is certainly what you stated," she retorted, standing from the bed.

Loki's face softened in the moonlight and he reached for her. After a moment of hesitation, Yeva let him pull her onto his lap. She settled into his embrace, unable to keep her anger burning as he caressed her face.

"Of course I am proud to rule the Western Woods with you, darling. But you do not, I think, understand what it's like to be a second son. To be always in someone else's shadow. To constantly measure your words and deeds against those of someone else. "

She frowned slightly. "There is truth in your words, Loki, but not as much as you may think." She paused, trying to find words for something she had never verbalized to another being. "My father had three sons, fierce warriors all, and all of them dead before I was born. There was Rhaegar, the Black Prince, so named for the black armor he wore and his stormy personality. Then Lucifer, the Flame of the West, he had red hair like me and was just as hot headed, if not more so. Finally there was Fenrir, the Lone Wolf. He was much younger that the other two and kept to himself, or so they say. They died together in battle, during that war that would eventually split Alfheimr into separate kingdoms." She smiled sadly, "I grew up hearing stories of their exploits and feats of arms. And while my father never outright said anything, I always felt pressured to live up to their legacy. I suppose you could say that is way I am always so eager to please him."

"You never told me about your brothers before," he murmured, it was not a reproach, only a statement of fact to let her know he understood her better now. "I believe we are more similar that I initially thought."

At his words, Yeva felt relief wash over her. Loki wasn't angry anymore and she hadn't broken their relationship beyond repair. Just the opposite, she felt closer to her lover that she had ever felt before. Yeva looked up at him, letting herself be draw into his deep emerald eyes. Hesitantly, she brought her lips to his for the barest of touches. "I am sorry I did not realize how deeply upset you were and for not speaking with as much tact as I could have."

In response, Loki brushed his lips across hers. "And I hope you can forgive me for insinuating that the kingdom you have laid at my feet is not enough. As long as I have you, the details are insignificant."

She chuckled and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. "Why Loki, I think that was almost an apology."

His face split into a grin and he nipped at her neck. She laughed and wiggled out of his arms causing Loki to chase after her. She flew around his desk as he followed close on her heels, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"Come here, you little minx!" Loki shouted.

Yeva took a running leap and sailed clear over his bed, landing nimbly near the balcony. Suddenly strong arms locked around her waist and Loki pressed her between the wall and his body.

"Teleportation is cheating, Loki," she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He kissed her, silencing her protests. His mouth was hot and eager with desire. Loki pressed his tongue against her lower lip and she gladly granted him entrance. For a moment, their tongues danced a duet, battling for dominance, before she pulled away to suck on his bottom lip, scraping the soft flesh with her teeth first. Loki moaned, his desire evident by the bulge growing in his trousers. As for herself, heat was pooling between Yeva's legs and the now familiar ache building in her lower abdomen. Loki moved his lips to her jaw, kissing and nipping his way up to her ear and then down her throat. Yeva leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes, reveling in the sensations he was giving her. He moved his head lower, pressing his mouth to the swell of her breasts. His thumbs rubbed her nipples through the light fabric, teasing them into taut peaks.

Yeva moaned and ran her fingers through his hair. Surely this was paradise.

Loki pulled the fabric of her gown down and off her shoulders, freeing her breasts. He paused and looked up into her lust clouded eyes before taking her right nipple into his mouth and sucking. The shocking feeling of his teeth raking over her sensitive peak drew another loud moan from her throat and he swirled his tongue around her flesh to sooth the sting of his bite. Loki kissed the snow-white valley of her chest before turning his attention to her other breast. He turned his head to suck and kiss her soft skin, but paused. He stood up straight, his attention clearly entrapped by something besides his wife's full breasts.

"Loki?"

His hand still resting on her hip, Loki swooped down and picked something up from the side table.

"What in the name of Odin…?"

It was the box from Jotunheim that she had moved last night, but instead of its usual onyx shade, it was a bright, pearly white.

"How did this get over here?" Loki questioned.

"I moved it last night…I knocked it off of your desk and I brought it over to the balcony so I could see if it was damaged. I guess I set it down on the table," she shivered, the night air cold on her exposed flesh.

Loki turned the box over in his hands, examining it—a smooth black seam could be seen running along its body, where it was supposed to open. The moon on the lid was glowing with a soft, golden light. Suddenly, Loki gripped the back of her head and crashed his lips to hers in a fierce, passionate kiss.

"Yeva, my love, you're brilliant!" He cried.

She laughed, his joy was infectious. "Are you going to explain why?"

"I've been so stupid. The answer on how to open this thing has been staring me right in the face. It needs moonlight, and water just as the cover shows. Come, darling. I think it is time for us to take a bath."

Loki clasped her hand in his and led her to his bathing chamber. Bypassing the shower, he snapped his fingers, filling the large sunken bathing pool with steaming water. Another snap and the room was illuminated with the soft light of hundreds of candles.

Setting the box on the ground, Loki turned his attention back to her.

"Turn around," he whispered.

Yeva complied and soon felt his hand skim over her bare shoulders and arms. She shivered at his touch and closed her eyes. His fingers worked at the laces on the back of her gown and the gauzy fabric pool at her feet. She turned face Loki, a shy smile playing on her lips. He quickly pulled off his tunic while she unlaced his breeches. He stepped down in to the water. Holding her hand tightly in his, Loki helped her down as well. Yeva sat between his long legs, her back resting against his chest; Loki kept one arm resting lightly on her stomach, the other resting against the lip of the tub. The water was warm and scented with rose petals. She idly let her nails run up and down Loki's thighs, enjoying the hard, lean muscle under his smooth skin.

Loki pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck before lifting the box from its perch and dunking it in the water. After a moment, the waves engraved on the cover glowed golden and small, gold hinges appeared with a clasp on the opposed side. With fingers full of trepidation, Loki gingerly eased the box open, pulling out a delicate necklace of swirling gold stands and large, light blue stones dripping from it. Yeva gasped at its beauty; she could feel the power rolling off of it, invading her senses and making her drunk on magic.

"What do you think, darling? A beautiful necklace for a beautiful woman?" He murmured against her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Holding the necklace before her eyes for a moment so she could take it in, Loki lower the cool metal to rest on her chest before fastening behind her, all the while pressing wet, languid kisses to her throat. Yeva let out a strangled moan and ground the curve of her backside into his groin, enjoying the feeling of his cock hardening against her flesh. Ghosting his fingers up her pale neck, Loki turned her chin and met her lips with his. He wrapped his other arm around her ribcage and kneaded her ample breast.

She rolled her tongue against his, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against hers in the warm water. After a moment she twisted her body so she was facing Loki, straddling his hips. His cock was pressed against her slick folds and she moved _up _and _down_ on him, aching for friction.

"So how do I look?" she panted against his lips.

Loki gripped her slight waist and pushed her back gently, his eyes—bright with desire and love—roving over her body taking in every curve.

"You look like a goddess—my queen of love and beauty," he whispered.

She could feel the magic of the necklace sink into her skin, illuminating it from the inside out. Raising her eyes to the mirror behind her she barely recognized herself—her eyes were bright, nearly feverish and her skin practically glimmered as if she had consumed the bifrost.

"Stand up," Loki ordered.

Yeva did as she was told, glad for his strong hands on her hips to keep her steady. The air was warmed from the heat of the candles, but her skin was still chilled from leaving the warm water of the bath. Loki leaned forward, resting his head against her thighs, his lips inches from her aching pussy.

"I want you to watch yourself in the mirror, darling. Don't you dare close your eyes as I pleasure you. I want you to see that angelic look on your face when I make you come."

She groaned as his words sent a jolt of lust down her spine and leaned against him. Loki pushed her legs further apart and trailed the tip of his tongue up her folds, before flicking her clit. A shudder consumed her whole body and Yeva fisted her hands in his hair to steady herself. Loki flattened his tongue and lapped at her again.

"Oh Loki," she moaned. "You wicked, wicked man."

He growled and pressed his face into her warm center, his tongue thrusting and fucking her cunt. Each movement sent more shocks of pleasures through her than the last. If she could ride his tongue the way she rode his cock, Yeva would have. Instead she tried to do as Loki had commanded her, and watched the mirror. The sight of his dark head bobbing between her legs was almost enough to push her over the edge.

Loki turned his attentions to her clit as he encircled the bundle of nerves with his lips and sucked hard. Yeva nearly fell over in response; she could feel her orgasm coming on her fast. Just when she though she couldn't stand it anymore, Loki pressed two long fingers into her hot cunt and started to pump in earnest. He raked his teeth over her clit then proceeded to lick it with changing rhythms and firmness. After a moment she realized he was writing his name onto the most intimate part of her body. That realization coupled with the sensation of his fingers thrusting and pushing inside of her made her groan with desire and she bucked her hips forward. Loki crooked his fingers against her walls, rubbing her in just the right place as his tongue lapped at her clit. Her pussy clenched around his hand as waves of pleasure flooded her body. Yeva screamed and watched her face in the mirror—eyes wide, mouth open in a delightful 'oh, cheeks flushed crimson.

Loki continued to fuck her with his fingers and mouth through her orgasm, making her writhe against him in pleasure. Finally, after he was content with his ministrations, he pulled his head away from her and smiled.

"Did that please you, my lady?"

Still trying to capture her breath, all Yevavanna could manage was a weak nod of the head.

Sliding down the smooth planes of his chest, Yeva wrapped her legs around his waist, impaling herself inch by slow inch on his throbbing cock. She kept her eyes locked on his as they gasped in relief to have him inside of her again. Slowly she rocked her hips against him, rolling he body around his cock. She enjoyed the feeling of him stretching her from the inside.

"Does my lady enjoy her manhood tonight?" He whispered cheekily.

"Sometimes I fear you'll tear me in two," she murmured with a giggle as he thrust into her. "You're hung like a frost giant."

He chuckled as he bucked his hips underneath her. Suddenly he brought his hand down on her backside in a sharp slap. Yeva gasped in shock, though it hadn't really hurt. In truth, it had made her pussy clench in delight.

"Naughty girl, how would you know about the size of frost giant cock?" Loki grunted before pressing his face to her bouncing breasts.

His tongue circled her nipple while his hand rolled her other breasts roughly. She gasped at his ministrations with any thought of response dying in her throat. She rolled her hips against him faster and could feel his cock throbbing inside of her, hitting her walls. The head of his length rubbed that sweet spot deep in her core and she moaned. Yeva bent backwards, pushing him deeper inside of her pussy and pressing her breasts into his face. The water sloshed over the floor like a flood as Loki picked up his pace, pounding into her like his life depended on it. His arm firmly wrapped around her waist was the only thing that kept her up. As she rolled her hips, her clit rubbed against his pelvic bone. She met his thrusts with joy, eagerly seeking the sweet friction his body gave her. She screamed his name into the night as her second orgasm came over her, shattering her body and remaking it anew.

Yeva slumped against Loki's chest, letting the shocks of pleasure roll through her body as he pounded into her throbbing cunt. She peppered kisses across his collar bones, the hollow of his throat and down his pectorals. Loki groaned as her tongue found his nipple. Holding her throat loosely in his hand, Loki guided her mouth to his for a searing kiss.

"Have I exhausted you, darling?" He teased.

She smirked back at him, "Not quite, yet."

Yeva leaned forward and took his earlobe into her mouth, sucking hard. She felt a surge of lust when his cock twitched inside of her and he raked his fingers down her back.

"Turn around, darling," Loki ordered with a smirk on his lips. "Or that sinful mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."

Yeva threw her head back and laughed, drunk as she was on happiness. After a moment she complied, turning so that her back was to him with her ass in the air out of the water. She gripped the lip of the tub and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The look on his face when he entered her was one of serenity—eyes closed and mouth open. Yeva felt a welling up of pride over that fact that she could make this man so happy with only herself.

He ran his hands up and down her spine, tracing her curves with the tips of his fingers.

"Are you going to spank me again, Loki?" She said, her voice breathy with anticipation.

She saw him grin in the mirror, a wolfish twinkle in his eyes as he filled her pussy to the hilt with his cock again and again. "Why, did you like it?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should figure it out," she challenged.

Yeva wasn't what had come over her to make her so bold. Perhaps it was the magic of the necklace pulsing under her skin or maybe it was a new found level of emotional connection and trust she had with Loki after their fight. Either way, she was enjoying it and from the look on his face, her lover was as well.

She saw him raise his hand in the half fogged glass and felt a heady anticipation build in her body. Yeva let out a low moan as his hand smacked her backside. Loki rubbed her hot skin to dissipate the sting.

"Did that well please you, my sweet? Do you like feeling the strike of my hand on your flesh as I fuck you senseless?" He panted.

"Oh gods, yes," she replied, rolling her hips back to meet his thrusts and take his cock deep within her soaking pussy.

Loki leaned forward so he was nearly bend over her, and wrapped his long, elegant fingers around her throat. He didn't apply pressure, but the feeling of him holding her there was erotic beyond words. He met her light eyes with his darker ones in the mirror and his breath came in hot pants against her skin. She could tell her lover was close to his release and surely as the day, every snap of his hips hit the most sensitive spots of her cunt.

Sliding the fingers wrapped around her throat down her body to grip her hip, Loki tangled the fingers of his other hand in her hair, grabbing a fist full of fiery tresses. With just enough force, he yanked her head back and captured her mouth with his. His snarls were swallowed by her throat and his seed by her cunt.

They collapsed into the now tepid water with a splash, heavy breaths and sighs filling the warm air. With a little maneuvering, Yeva ended up lying against Loki, her head resting on his chest as he stroked her hair. With shaking hands, she unclasped the necklace from around her throat and set it on the floor. Loki would have to bring it to Odin tomorrow, so it could be stored in the treasure vault. At least the Allfather would be pleased the box and been opened and the necklace retrieved.

"Loki?"

"Yes, darling?"

"Will you promise to still look at me like you did tonight, even if I never wear that necklace again?"

Loki peered down at her, emerald eyes full of love and caressed the curve of her cheekbone with his thumb. "Yeva, that necklace makes the wearer unfathomably loved by all who see her, but I already love you beyond reason."

She grinned and, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulled him down for a kiss.

"Shall we move this to the bed, darling?"

* * *

The ride north was tedious, but hopefully worth it to investigate the cold stone pillars that Yeva had discovered. Loki shifted uncomfortably in his saddle—they had been on the rode three days and were nearly to their destination. At least a company of eight warriors moved faster than an entire army. They had passed the open field and pasture lands of the center of the country and were now firmly in the gloomy northern forests. He liked the shade and the cover the trees provided, though he was certain they would camp in a clearing.

On the bright side, he had left the palace in a good mood. Odin had been pleased that his son had been able to solve the mystery of the box from Jotunheim. The Allfather had gladly taken the necklace to his treasure vault for protection and inspection, satisfied to see that it was very powerful and they had not wasted time and energy on a mere trinket.

Loki heard shouting behind him and a moment later Thor thundered past him, Baldur hot on his heels. It seemed they were racing. Loki sighed. He had tried his best to avoid Thor as much as it was possible in a small traveling company. He wasn't mad at his brother, exactly, more disappointed that Thor had not realized how insensitive his open jubilation at being named king was. Though it had not been officially announced to the court, anyone with enough connection to the royal family could easily find out why the God of Thunder was in such high spirits. Thor had not said a word to Loki about it, however, though he well knew how his little brother felt about the entire situation.

He supposed Yeva was right though, as much at her words had stung at the time. Loki had always known Thor would be king of Asgard after the Allfather abdicated. If anyone was to blame for his false hopes it should be Odin, not Thor. Odin was the one who had always built up Loki's dreams with one hand while tearing them down with the other. At least he had Yeva now: his bright, vivacious Yeva who offered not only her heart and soul but a kingdom as well. She could easily exclude him from power in the Western Woods if she chose to, but instead she trusted his judgment as wished to rule with him.

Loki glanced at the woman riding next to him. She was wearing trousers, of course, riding astride like a man. The wind was tossing loose strands of her hair back, but there was a smile on her face. Simply looking at her made him happy. After a moment she seemed to realize he was watching her. She turned to face him and smiled.

"I'll race you!" She called over the wind.

"Winner's prize is a kiss," he shouted back and urged his horse into a gallop before she could respond.

* * *

Beowulf lay in the cold dungeon floor, his body wracked with chills as his insides felt as if they were burning up. His ordeal had been three days ago, but it could have been months for all he noticed. Before he had woken up from his faint, the fever and infection had set in, causing him to live in this waking nightmare. Sometimes he though the walls were crying for him—hot tears of blood that dripped down on him and eventually filled the room so he choked. Sometimes he dreamt that his feet were still on fire and he would wake himself up screaming. His feet had been wrapped with bandages in order to keep the infection out, but either they weren't clean or not well done because he was certain he was going to die.

Through the haze of his fever, he saw the door of his cell open and shadowy figures enter.

He heard their whispers through a fog, but he was able to make out most of the words, even if his brain wouldn't process their meaning.

"As you can see, my lord, he's too ill to stand before a jury of peers."

"Then his wounds are clearly not healing. We will have jury come to the cell to examine him, but it seems a rather forgone conclusion. When it's over, heal him."

Over the course of gods knew how long, a series of figures shuffled through his pit. Some poked and prodded at his feet causing searing agony to lace up his legs, but it took so much effort to even whimper, Beowulf usually bore the pain in silence. Others simply covered their mouths and ran from the room as soon as they could. After they had all had their fill of the spectacle, he thought he heard voices from beyond walls, or maybe from within the walls. Yes, that was probably it; the walls that had cried blood for him were now speaking.

"What was the verdict?"

"Guilty."

"I see…shall I start the healing process?"

He must have passed out, because when he came too, Beowulf felt more lucid than he had in days. As he stared up at the gray ceiling, he felt something move against his inflamed skin. Allowing his eyes to slowly travel down the ceiling, and the opposite wall, Beowulf propped himself up on his elbows and screamed. Little white maggots were wriggling and rolling around his blackened feet. He could see bits of bone sticking out of his decimated flesh. The most awful smell emanated from him. Beowulf fell backwards and twisted onto his side just as he retched up bile, getting some of the sick on his now ratty tunic.

A moment later the jailer bust into his cell, closely followed by a healer, clearly startedly by his screams.

"What in fucking Hel's name is happening!?" He roared, or rather tied to; he mostly just whimpered.

"It is your treatment," the healer calmly explained as the jailer moved to restrain him. "The maggots will eat off the dead tissue so that I will be able to re-grow your flesh. You will need to walk at your execution."

* * *

"These are the pillars of which we spoke," Yeva murmured as she showed Loki the stones in question which rested in a clearing in the woods. "Don't touch them with your bare hands unless you want terrible frost burn."

Loki smiled to himself at her words and crouched down to get a better look. He could feel the magic melting off the stones, though they were not naturally magical—quite the opposite, they were probably from the surrounding earth. He muttered an incantation under his breath and a moment later frost blue runes shimmered in the air. He studied them intently, before speaking another spell to peer below the initial layer of magic.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself.

"What is interesting, brother?" Thor called from where he stood next to Yeva.

"The spells are layered from the outside in, so while these stones were stacked from this end of the portal, the magic itself came from Jotunheim. But one of them would have had to be in Asgard to stack the stones and create the initial opening to let the magic through," he said, standing. "This reinforces my theory that someone from Asgard is working with the Frost Giants. Which lords have lands in this area?"

Thor shrugged, "You know never had a head for that kind of thing."

Loki wanted to point out that Thor didn't have a head for much, but he restrained himself.

"Can you deactivate it?" Yeva asked.

Loki frowned and stared at the runes for a moment, trying to find their source.

"I can try," he called.

He looked for a weakness or base rune in the net of magic. It would be difficult as the web was spun in a different realm, but Loki was confident in his abilities to un-write the magic. As he examined the layers, it seemed that the base rune—the starting point for the spell, so to speak, was tied to Jotunheim. That particular method of unraveling was out then. After a moment he found an error in the spell that anchored the magic to the rocks. Reaching out with his own power, he tugged at it. Nothing happened and Loki pulled again, but harder this time. After a moment, he felt the incantation give and he was able to peel away a small section.

As he tugged at the anchoring magic, the stones started to glow blue.

"Loki…" Yeva said hesitantly.

"Not now, Yeva, I need to concentrate," he hissed out.

As he spoke, a black, gaping portal ripped open in the fabric of reality and a blustering, bone aching wind hit them so hard the air froze in their lungs. Loki scrambled back as quickly as he could when a Jotun stepped through the black maw.

White hot pain exploded behind his eyes as the Frost Giant backhanded him across the cheek so hard he went flying back and landed on top of Yeva.

In the seconds that it took Thor to call for the others who were beyond the trees and for Loki to roll off of Yeva and regain his footing, a dozen Jotuns came pouring out of the portal.

"They must have known we were coming!" He shouted to his brother.

Thor roared in response, frenzied by the prospects of battle.

As he readied himself for battle and the adrenaline started to sing in his veins, Loki became less aware of his physical surroundings. Instead he snapped in to the magical sight her preferred for fighting by letting the magic flow out of him, marking his enemies with a bright red light and allies with a soft green one.

"DON'T LET THEM TOUCH YOU!" Volstagg screamed somewhere behind him. The green magic Loki had marked him with was black around his arm.

In a swift movement, he whipped a dagger into the eye socket of the Jotun that had hit him. Out of his peripheral vision, another green figure came crashing through the trees. Sending a double into the middle of the melee, he lured a giant into his line of sight and blasted him with a ball of fire. Another dagger singing through the air found its mark in a Jotun's neck.

Loki felt a red figure behind him, and he whirled around with a ball of fire ready in his hands. Before he could discharge the energy, The Jotun's meaty hand crushed his wrist. Loki was jarred out of his magic sight and he converted the energy to maintain a physical barrier around his flesh as his armor shattered off.

As the beast squeezed harder the cold snapped at his magic shattering his defenses. Loki steeled himself for the searing cold of the Frost Giant's touch, but it did not come. Instead, he stared in horror as his own arm turned a blinding cerulean blue and the enemy's touch began to feel comfortably warm. Without thinking what he was doing, Loki stabbed the creature through in the throat. As its grip left his arm, his flesh slowly returned to its normal alabaster.

Thoughts rumbled and roiled through his mind, each more sickening than the last. His stomach churned and he fought back the urge to be sick on the battlefield. His own skin had betrayed him; Loki wanted to claw his own skin off.

"What am I," he whispered to himself.

A grunt of pain near to his ear shattered his thought and brought him back to reality. Easily slipping back into his magic sight, Loki realized Yeva was a few feet away. She was cornered by two giants who had managed to get her sword away from her and were landing hard punches on her. Running to her and kicking Eld into the air as he went, he grabbed one of the Jotuns on the side of its head and tugged hard. A satisfying snap of bones met his efforts and its neck broke. He threw it to the ground, away from him. Yeva grabbed her sword from the air and in one swift movement decapitated the other giant.

"Brother! Destroy the pillar!" Thor roared from where he was surrounded by at least half a dozen enemies.

Loki realized that the Jotuns had been steadily streaming out of the portal while they had been battling. In a blink of the eye, he teleported, so that he stood next to the gateway to Jotunheim. He knew he did not have the time to dismantle the spells, instead he decided to do as Thor would. With a mighty shove reinforced with magic, Loki toppled the stone pillar, thus collapsing the portal.

One of the remaining giants rushed him, enraged that he had cut off their access home. Loki sent a blast of fire at its chest, effectively melting it in its tracks. He threw a dagger into another's eye, while his companions finished the last of the Jotuns. When the enemies were all dead, Yeva appeared at his side and leaned against him. He stiffened at her touch.

"You know, next time I try to tell you something, you should really listen," she half-chided, alluding to the fact she had tried to warn him the portal had started to open.

So she hadn't seen…at least, he thought not, if she was still willingly touching and speaking to him. Unless she had known. The though sent ice through his heart, but he couldn't keep her voice from a few nights ago out of his head: _you're hung like a frost giant._ But surely, she had meant it in jest, hadn't she?

Quickly looking around at his other companions, Loki tried to discern if anyone had seen…well, he couldn't bring himself to even think it. If he did not leave this clearing soon, he was going to vomit.

Everyone was more or less busy putting themselves back together after the battle. Thor strode over to him and clapped a large hand on his shoulder.

"Good thinking, brother! Knocking the pillar over like that—just what I would have done."

Loki flinched. _I'm not your brother, _he thought, _I am a monster._

He took a deep breath and tried to swallow the turmoil that was flooding his mind. Maybe it wasn't true; perhaps it was just a strange reaction to his magic.

There was only one way to check, and it was sitting in Odin's treasure vault.

* * *

Baldur watched Loki from the side of the clearing, golden eyes wide with shock to see his cousin's skin turn Jotun blue during the battle. Afterwards, he made sure to busy himself so not to arouse the astute prince's suspicions that he had seen something.

So, Loki wasn't Odin's son. He wasn't even an aesir.

Perfect. It made his plans ever so much easier.

* * *

**Well, things just got rather interesting, yes? **

**I'd like to thank Loki'sdreamer and HarryPotterFreakie for your reviews of the previous chapter. I really appreciate it! I'd also like to thank anyone who added this story or me to their favorites / alerts. :)**

**Comments, Questions, or Criticisms? Please Review or PM**


	21. Chapter 21: Asgard Can Burn

**No smut in this one :( **

**Trigger Warnings: Character Death**

* * *

Chapter Twenty One: Asgard Can Burn

Loki took a deep breath and tried to steady the tremor of his hands. When he entered the treasure vault, he had sent the guards away by telling them he needed to perform a few dangerous experiments on the necklace. Though it was technically against their vows, they had left him alone. The silence of the vault's golden walls weight down on him, pushing into him until he felt he would suffocate. But he didn't leave. Loki needed to know—know that he wasn't the very same creature that his family scorned and hate. He wasn't the monster of nightmares; was he?

The ride back from the northern forests had been excruciating. Every little word from anyone set him on edge. Loki had felt as though any moment Yeva or Thor would look at him and see what he truly was. He couldn't bear to see the revulsion and horror on their faces, so he had kept to himself as much as possible. He could tell Yeva was confused and hurt—angry even—at his recent neglect. But he couldn't allow himself to touch her until he knew. By the Gods, if his suspicions were true about himself and if he had managed to get her pregnant in the short few months that he had shared her bed…well, he shuddered to think of the damage was Jotun babe in her womb would do.

The Casket of Ancient Winters rested before him on a golden pillar, glittering with a harsh blue glow. Loki could feel the cold rolling off of it. It was the crown jewel of Odin's vault and once the source of Jotunheim's power. Without it the frost giants were nothing, but if it ever fell into their hands again, they would be a force fearsome to behold. No one but a Jotun could use it. The Allfather could barely touch it and only at the expense of his powers for as long as he was in contact with it. It would surely kill any other aesir.

Taking a deep breath, Loki slowly extended his hand and gripped the Casket by its golden handles. The second he touched it, it hummed to life. Lifting the Casket from where it rested, Loki marveled that he hadn't yet been frozen where he stood. Glancing to the side at his hands, his marvel soon turned to horror as Jotun blue blossomed over the skin of his fingers.

"STOP!"

Though he would know that voice anywhere, Loki did not turn around to face the Allfather.

"Am I cursed?" He asked.

Loki felt sick at the hope that laced his voice with that question. Anything would be preferable to being a Jotun_. Please, let it be so_.

"No," the Allfather's voice was flat, revealing no emotion or clue as to this thoughts.

The disappointment hit Loki so hard he struggled to breath. He wasn't cursed, at least, not in the traditional sense. He wasn't cursed and he could use the Casket. There were no other options. He let the Casket clunk down on its pillar.

"Than what am I?" He rasped, still holding on to the slim hope that Odin could offer him another explanation.

"You're my son."

Loki hadn't heard Odin speak that way, claiming him as his own so simply without an audience, since he was very little. Why had it taken this nightmare to set in for his father to acknowledge him? Not his father, though, not really, he reminded himself.

"What more than that?" He asked, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

He turned to look at the Allfather. Loki had held the Casket long enough to feel its cold slip over his entire body and he knew exactly how monstrous he must look. He wanted to see Odin's face when he was confronted with Loki's blue scared skin and red eyes.

Odin watched him silently, not reacting. So he knew. Of course he knew, he was the Allfather, the All-knowing. Suddenly, it hit him. Loki had been so concerned with proving himself wrong, proving he wasn't a monster, that he hadn't bothered to consider how he had been brought to Asgard in the first place.

He walked towards his father slowly, enunciating each word and trying to detect a lie on Odin's face.

"The Casket wasn't the only think you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

He reached the foot of the golden steps and look up at the Allfather, wanting to see anything in his face but the truth.

"No," Odin said, pausing, considering his words carefully. "In the aftermath of the battle I went into the temple and I found a baby. Small, for a giant's offspring…abandoned, suffering…left to die: Laufey's son."

As he spoke, Loki couldn't stand to look upon the Allfather's face, for there was no lie in his words.

"Laufey's son?" He name felt strange in his mouth as he tested it, foreign and bitter.

_Laufey's son. Laufeyson. Not Odin's son._ He looked at Odin, for once letting his emotions play across his face.

"Yes," the Allfather, but not _his_ father, said simply.

_NO. _ Not only was he a monster, a creature from that vile race of demons, he was the son of the creature that had tried to kill his wife.

"Why?" He looked at Odin; both dreading and seeking answers. "You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child. You would have died."

He felt is anger rise at that, "no! You took me for a purpose," he said, advancing the steps. "What was it?"

The Allfather stared at him, silent.

"TELL ME!" He screamed, a torrent of emotions exploding through his voice and across his face. Anger, disappointment, fear, betrayal, terror, sadness.

"I thought we could unite our kingdoms on day. Bring about an alliance; bring about permanent peace through you."

"What?" Loki whispered, all the memories of Odin telling him and Thor that they would both be kings flooding back to him.

"But those plans no longer matter," Odin said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Loki felt sick; sick from anger and disappointment and revulsion. Did those plans no longer matter because he was not good enough? Had not proven himself worthy? What had he ever done wrong, besides not be born Thor? What was he for then?

"So I am no more than another stolen relic? Locked up here until you might have use of me?" Loki's anger was coloring his words and clouding his mind.

"Why do you twist my words?" Odin reprimanded.

"You could have told me what I was, from the beginning," Loki said, sadness blending with his anger. "Why didn't you?!"

"You're my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth," Odin stated simply.

_The truth_. And what good did that do him now? No wonder he was the fucking God of Lies—no one deigned to give him the truth! Lies were all he knew.

"What? Because I…I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?!" There, he had said it out loud. Monster: that was what he was.

"No," the Allfather whispered, wearily.

_Stop denying it_ he wanted to scream, his anger and pain blinding him.

"You know it all makes sense, now! Why you favored Thor _all these years!" _Loki screamed venom rising in his voice as he advanced on the Allfather's sitting form. "Because no matter how much you claimed to love me, you could never have FROST GIANT SITTING ON THE THRONE OF ASGARD."

Loki was leaning over Odin, breathing heavily, unaware of how they had come into their positions. Odin reached for him, trying to take Loki's hand, but his fingers slipped as his body went limp. Loki stared in horror at his father's exhausted, unconscious form. Had he done this as well? The Odinsleep could be brought on by extreme stress or heartbreak. Was this his fault?

He reached for Odin's hand, the childish urge to shake and waking him up taking over, but Loki hesitated. What would his touch do if his anger and pushed Odin over the edge? Swallowing his fears for a moment, he gently felt the Allfather's hand, hoping to feel the strong pulse of his heart. It was there, but weak.

"Guards!" Loki cried. "Guards, please! Help! The Allfather!"

He scrambled away from the body as the treasure vault guards marched in and swooped over Odin, ready to take him to his bed. Loki followed listlessly after, dazed and horrified by the Allfather's revelations.

Laufeyson.

Loki didn't know how to react, he simply felt empty. His entire life was one elaborate lie. He wasn't an Odinson. He wasn't a prince. He wasn't an asgardian.

He was a monster.

And he deserved to be alone.

* * *

The dungeons were quite, save for the dripping of water down the dark walls. It must have been night time, since there were fewer guards patrolling the silent hallway with their grotesque and distorted shadows stalking him through his sleep. Beowulf was prompted against the wall of his cell, wavering between a fitful slumber and consciousness.

His feet had been painfully re-grown by the king's healer; muscle, swine, and flesh all built up over days of excruciating pain. At least there weren't any maggots involved with that process. His new feet were pink and soft like an infant's. Yet it hurt to walk over the rough ground of the prison, free as they were from calluses.

As he lied there, in the darkness, he heard her before he saw her—the scuffle of silk slippers over the uneven stone floor, the draw of cold air into lungs. Melisende appeared before his cell door, carrying her own torch, her dark hair both framing and hiding her tawny face. She motioned for him to approach.

Standing on shaking legs, the floor cut into his new feet as Beowulf walked the short distance to the door and hot blood coated his skin. Absently he wondered if he would have the strength to walk to his execution tomorrow.

He licked his lips and waited for her to speak.

"All is arranged. I've been speaking to those who would wish change, and change they shall have," Her voice barely carried through the darkness, but her words brought comfort though the riddling was necessary. Safety first, after all.

"What role shall I play?" He questioned.

"Just do as you would. I will take care of the rest. On the morrow, you will have that for which you have so long wished."

With her whispers echoing in his ears, she turned and fled.

* * *

Sigyn watched Baldur as he paced around his small dark chamber, excitement clear in his movements. His golden eyes shone brightly as he watched her. He had called her to him earlier that day, though she had not been able to slip away from the queen until just now, as twilight set out over the golden city.

"It was beautiful, my dear. I had not yet decide how I was going to frame him—for frame him I must as he's too clever by half—but then he all but handed me his head on silver platter. Do you want to know how?"

Sigyn felt uncomfortable; she hadn't seen Baldur in such a state before and he seemed likely to do something rash. Oh how she wished she had never gotten mixed up with him; that she had never ventured to the gardens to meet him that night. But if living at the royal court had taught her one thing, it was how to survive. How to keep her head down and do as expected while working quietly behind the scenes.

"How…I mean, what happened?" She whispered, afraid to hear.

Baldur stopped his pacing and fixed his gaze on her. Walking towards her, he captured her hands in his and kissed her knuckles; she tried not to gag.

"You'll hardly believe it, I think, but as we fought the Jotuns on my northern estates, I happened to glance over at my dearest cousin. Loki was caught 'round the wrist by a frost giant, and do you know what? His arm turned blue. And not just any blue, not the bluish-black of frost bite, but the bright blue _of a true Jotun._" Baldur paused to throw his head back and laugh. "So tell me, my dear, did you ever suspect? How did his Jotun cock feel inside of you? Was it cold as ice? Did you like it?"

Was he jealous? Sigyn felt revulsion well up in her stomach and for once she acted on her impulses instead of caution. The chamber rang with the sound of her hand slapping the curve of his cheek smartly. An imprint of her fingers blossomed on his face, a violent, angry red. Baldur hiss and grabbed her by the throat, slamming her against the smooth wall. Sigyn's head rang as she clawed at his hands, trying desperately to breath.

"Sigyn, darling, beautiful Sigyn. I promised you immunity at the end of all of this. Don't make me break my promise to you," he growled, his hot breath washing over her face.

Baldur squeezed her windpipe for a long moment, eyes never leaving hers as her vision started to blacken. Finally letting go of her, Sigyn dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. Looking up at him from where she lay sprawled on the ground, her heart darkened with hate. She hated his handsome face that belied his cruel, grasping nature; hated his golden eyes and foul breath. Most of all, she hated herself for being sucked into his madness all because he promised her to give her back something that had never really belonged to her to begin with.

"Run along dear. If you ever want to fuck your jotun again, you had better to do it soon. He'll be dead by tomorrow. Once I notify Laufey that everything is going _exactly_ to plan, Asgard won't have a change."

Sigyn stood shakily by supporting herself on the nearby table. She stared at him in horror as the full weight of his words hit her.

"You promised we would both be safe!"

Baldur threw his head back and laughed, its merciless tones reverberating off of the dark walls.

"Oh Sigyn, you naïve thing. I promised you two things. I promised you Loki, which I am at this moment giving you, and I promised _you_ immunity when this little mess is over—when I am king of Asgard and Laufey rules the Nine Realms! These promises were mutually exclusive of each other and it is certainly not my fault if you were stupid enough to think otherwise."

His laughter chased her down the hall as she feld from him. Baldur was so self-assured of his grip on her that he did not bother to chase Sigyn. He did not think she would ever betray him, because to do so certainly meant death for her. But he was wrong. Sigyn did not care much for her own life at this point; she knew enough about his pact with Laufey to know she would probably die anyway. All of the Worlds of Yggdrasil covered in ice. She needed to tell someone before all Hel broke loose, but the only person she could think on was Loki. She dreaded seeing him again, particularly after their last encounter but he was the Lie-Smith, he would know the truth as it tumbled from her lips.

As she reentered the main halls of the palace, everything seemed to be uproar. For a moment she thought perhaps Baldur's plans had already been put in motion and they were under attack. Servants and messengers were dashing to and fro, looking harried and terrified. She barely had time to slip into an alcove when a cohort of guards marched by, long spears ready in their hands. What in Valhalla was going on?

Turning a corner, Sigyn nearly crashed into another of the queen's handmaidens.

"Sigyn? Where have you been? The palace is in chaos! The Allfather has fallen into the Odinsleep. The Queen is beside herself—they do not think he will waken!"

"By the nine realms! How did it happen?" She inquired, gripping her friend's wrists tight with fear as they crouched out of the way—if Baldur's plans came to fruition while the King was in the Odinsleep, they were all doomed.

"No one knows," She whispered furtively. "He was alone with Prince Loki in the treasure vault when it happened. The guards said they could hear shouting, but when they went to investigate, His Royal Highness was panicked and calling for them."

Sigyn closed her eyes, trying to think. She was almost certain Loki had confronted the king about his parentage, if Baldur's words could be trusted. Her urgency to see Loki tripled. If the Allfather was gone, Loki was the only person in the royal family who would listen to the reason of her warning. Thor was too rash to understand the importance of avoiding a fight with Jotunheim at all cost and Frigga would be too distraught by Odin's sickness to do anything.

Breaking away from the other maid, Sigyn hurried up her now un-used but familiar route to Loki's chambers. It would take longer as she was traveling the servant's paths, but she couldn't risk anyone seeing her. She only hoped to Valhalla that he would be there when she arrived.

* * *

Theoderic looked out over the night sky from his pavilion, his mind heavy with many thoughts. An ill feeling had followed him throughout his days ever since Yevanna had left for the Realm Eternal. Unrest followed him everywhere—whether it was an increase in goblin raids to the north or the disappointing situation with Beowulf, it seemed his old age would be marked with trouble.

The young elf's face bloomed in Theoderic's mind's eye. Tomorrow was Beowulf's execution and though he preferred to swing the sword of justice himself, he had deferred to Princess Melisende's wishes that she be the one to sever the head of her brother's killer.

He took one last look at the cosmos glittering above his head before retiring for the night. The greens and purples of the stars calmed him and brought him a quite resolve. He would need all his strength for the next morning for though he knew what must be done, it ached at his soul to execute one he had raised himself.

The next day, Theoderic felt weary as he seated himself on his throne. He had not slept well the night before; he could not shake the dark cloud that had settled over him. As soon as he was done with this business he would write to Asgard; he needed to know Yevanna was alright as he feared this current mood was some portent of his daughter's doom.

"Bring the prisoner," he ordered as Melisende assumed her position at the foot of the dais.

The great hall was full to bursting with courtiers, both those from the Western Woods and the Eastern Shore. The high heavy doors boomed open and the shell that once was Beowulf was dragged in by two guards who needed prop him up between them. A trail of hot red blood flowed from his feet back to the dungeons. When the boy was right before the dais, Theoderic stood and carefully walked down the stone steps.

"Beowulf, once Lord of the Northern Reach of the Western Woods, you are brought here today to serve your sentence of execution. Through trail by ordeal you have been judged by a jury of your peers to be guilty of the murder of Lord Ibelin of the Eastern Shore. For your crime may your head be struck from your neck so that your blood runs free. Do you have any last words?" As he spoke, he peered down at his once-nephew and wondered where the stars of the boy's life had led him astray.

Beowulf licked his lips, considering the King's words. "The sword of justice is about to fall, there is no need for words."

Theoderic stared at the younger elf, puzzling over his suddenly contrite attitude until he decided it did not matter. Beowulf would die today, and if he was repentant than perhaps Hel would have mercy on his soul. Turning he motioned for an attendant to bring forth the great sword used for executions.

"Kneel," he ordered.

Beowulf complied, getting on his knees, hands bound behind his back and neck bent. The hall was silent as a tomb. After a moment, Theoderic turned to Melisende and held the sword out to her. She picked the blade of from his outstretched hands, bowing her head to him. Theoderic took a step back, to stand behind her as she raised the great blade over Beowulf's head.

Melisende swung the harsh metal. It struck not down onto the traitor's neck but out towards his own.

A comforting, sticky warmth flowed down Theoderic's chest as the erupting chaos of the hall dimmed. He saw the sparkling blue eyes of his wife as his own sight failed and darkness engulfed both king and land. He would have rasped her name save for his severed vocal cords.

* * *

Loki sat numbly in his darkened chambers, trying to keep his emotions at bay. _Think of nothing, feel nothing, be nothing, and nothing can hurt you, _he thought.

_Laufeyson._

_ Jotun._

_ Monster._

The thoughts kept echoing in his head, not matter how hard he tried to block them out. The voices of a thousand memories pressed in on him_. He was different, odd, not like everyone else. Why did he have to like magic and not swordplay? What was wrong with him? Not much like his father, is he? Look how thin he is. Tricky little bastard, isn't he? Where do you think the dark hair comes from, anyway? Strange child. Strange man. Different, different, DIFFERENT. _

_ Not like the rest of us._

He could feel the storm building up inside of him, black and hateful and furious. A baleful wind, ready to break free and leave a path of destruction and chaos in his wake. It was fueled by all that was deep and dark and buried inside his heart: fire and ice and rage.

Loki had stared into the abyss of his soul, and the abyss had stared back. The monster was string. They would regret their lies.

The click of a door closing snapped him out of his inner turmoil, if only enough to see what was before him.

"Sigyn," he said, hardly believing his eyes.

Why had she come? And now of all times. Could she not see he was not to be trusted around anyone? She looked half-crazed herself, eyes bright with panic and red welts lining her slim neck. She was kneeling at his feet and babbling.

"I'm sorry, Loki please. I know, I know. He told me. But I need to tell—only you can stop it, please, please listen to me!"

Only half his mind was on her, the rest was still tumbling into the chaos of his soul. What did she mean? He looked at her, really looked at her. Perhaps she was here for a reason. Yeva was still a problem he must solve, after all.

Slowly, Loki knelt so that he was at her eye level. Pretty green eyes, to be sure, but not the light blue he could no longer allow himself to love. Gently he reached forward and captured her face in his hands.

"What are you doing?!" She gasped. "What about Princess Yevanna?"  
That made him pause. What about Yeva? Surely this was less cruel that the truth—by the god's he could hear her approaching now.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, searching her gaze, before crashing his lips down to hers.

Sigyn resisted his touch for a moment, but his grip was too strong and the memories too potent. With a sob of relief she relaxed into him, clutching at his body, desperate for something she had never quite had.

And then the door opened.

* * *

Yeva smiled at Sif as they walked into the common area between their rooms. They had just come from the practice yard, bruised and sweaty, perhaps, but it was a welcome distraction. Between the clash of swords, free from the cocked ears of those too curious for their own good, Yeva spilled her recent fears.

_ "What is troubling you, my friend?" Sif asked, concern written on her face through the moue of concentration. _

_ Yeva hesitated to speak, but she realized of anyone in Asgard, in all the Nine Realms, Sif was the only person she trusted with these words. _

_ "Loki has not touched me since we returned from the north," She murmured, parrying Sif's sword thrust. "And it is not because of my moon-blood."_

_ Sif ducked Yeva's sweeping swing. "Loki is a changeable man, prone to periods of solitude. Could that not be all it is?"_

_ Yeva frowned, considering her words. "I think not. He has always been willing to speak with me before, regardless of mood. He hardly looks at me anymore."_

Yeva watched her friend retreat into her chamber, before turning to enter Loki's. She took a deep breath, resolving to speak to her husband and find out what she had done to earn his freezing behavior.

Opening the door, she paused as her mind worked out the utterly foreign scene before her. As her brain slowly started to function, bile rose in her throat and her stomach churned. There was Loki, her lover and husband, kneeling on the floor, lips locked in passionate kiss with another woman.

Vengeance, violence, fire, and bloodlust boiled through her body but she was all but frozen to her spot, unable to speak or move, only stare.

The woman—Sigyn?!—realized Yeva was there first, or perhaps Loki knew, but he did not seem to care. Either way, the other woman's green eyes widened and her soft moan of pleasure turned into a gasp of horror. Slowly, Loki stopped betraying Yevanna with his lips and turned to face her. He didn't say anything, didn't move towards her, just watched. Sigyn back away, though Yeva couldn't have been bothered to care; she only had eyes for Loki.

Finding her ability to move, she stalked towards him, her face blank. She didn't say anything. He didn't deserve her words, her screams, or her wrath and she wouldn't have been able to speak if she wanted too. When she reached him, Yeva locked her gaze on his in defiance, proud of the fact there was not a tear in her eye, only a firestorm of rage, fearful to behold. Raising her hand, she slapped him across the face so hard his head snapped to the side and red welts appeared on his pale skin. He didn't react, taking her fury as though he knew he deserved it.

Yeva turned on her heel and marched to the door. She stopped before crossing the threshold and turned to face him once again. She could not stop the spill of tears anymore, so she let them fall, hot and salty down her face. She hoped he felt guilty; she never cried. Turning her attention to her hand, she ripped his engagement ring off of her finger. Staring at it a moment, Yeva considered what it meant before flinging at him. It hit Loki square in the chest and he caught it as it bounced off of his body.

She turned and left, head held high and shoulder's squared. As she entered the common area, Theo burst into the room, looking frantic and capturing the attention of everyone that her interlude with Loki had failed to gain.

"YEVA! MY LADY! New form Alfheimr! Your father—"

"We're leaving," she said, her tone icy.

"But Yeva, you need—" He started.

"Theoderic. I said: we. Are. Leaving. Assemble the company commanders and inform them. Have them organize the troops' departure and then meet me at the Bifrost."

The sound of his full name from her lips froze the blood in his veins more than the terrible news he had been about to deliver. What in Valhalla's name had happened to made her so furious, so cold?

Her announcement had shocked everyone and Thor stared in horror.

"Yeva! You cannot be serious. What of Asgard?" He called after her rapidly retreating form, confused by the recent turn of events.

Yeva turned in the archway, ready to leave, and looked upon Thor, his companions, Sif, and, lastly, Loki who still stood in the shadow of his rooms for the final time.

"Asgard can burn for all I care."

* * *

**Well, I hope you enjoyed it...or at least don't hate me too much. lol. ****Don't worry, there should be 5-10 more chapters to go. The next chapter might be a little delayed. I'm going to be away from my computer for a few days with the 4th of July and I have major edits to do on my thesis so it can be published! Due date for that is next week Wednesday, so hopefully you'll have another chapter a few days after that. **

**I'd like to thank Shard-01, HarryPotterFreakie, Furionknight, Ikatiecullen101, and Loki'sdreamer for their lovely reviews. A further thanks to anyone who added this story or myself to your alert / favorites list! **

**A special thanks to my tumblr friend Sing-Hummingbird-Sing for helping me figure out Yeva's reaction.**

**Comments, Questions, Criticisms? Please PM or Review! :D**


	22. Chapter 22: The Night is Dark

**I'm sorry this took so long. :( I know I'm terrible. I hope it was worth the wait though. Just be aware that basically everything in this chapter is happening at the same time. Except for the stuff in Alfheimr. Because time doesn't always match up between the realms, what's happening in Alfheimr actually took place during Chapter Twenty-One, after Theoderic's death. But there wasn't really a good way to work them in. **

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors

There was an old saying in Alfheimr, maybe it was from a forgotten legend or book, maybe it was the vestige of an old religion. A shadow and a thought of something that once was; it tickled at the back of their minds sometimes, the collective conscious of the elves: _the night is dark and full of terrors_.

The phrase came to mind as Elessar crouched in the blooded hallways of the palace. King Theoderic was dead—struck down by that witch Melisende. Chaos had erupted in the hall as her supporters started hacking the crowd to pieces before his king's body hit the ground. They had marauded through the palace and the capital city, killing, plundering, and burning as they went, striking down any who opposed Beowulf or Melisende. He wasn't sure how many were hiding in the forest or in the twisted branches of the keep or how many were dead. But he did know he couldn't afford to care. Night had fallen, and now was his best chance to escape.

He had been in the hall when the slaughter started. Horrified, he had been rooted to the ground when an Eastern Shore elf had charged him. But Elessar was King Theoderic's fastest runner and he had grown up in the palace—its secrets passages where as familiar as his father's voice. He had dodged the man and sprinted down the servant's hall in an attempt to raise the alarm in the barracks. But when he arrived he was met with the smell blood cloying and clogging the dirt floor; all the guards had been murdered in their beds.

He had been playing a game of cat and mouse with the Eastern Shore soldiers ever since. As night fell, Elessar knew he had to get out of the palace, the city, the Western Woods themselves if he wanted to live. He was a runner after all, as soon as he was in the forest, he could run all night and all day if need be. But how would he slip out? As far as he could tell, Melisende had bribed the guards to open the Moon Gate to her army, which was at that moment marching sacking the city. He would have to take the back roads—though they were probably choked with debris from ill use.

Princess Yevanna must be notified. She was queen now, the rightful queen, and she had Eld—the sword of kings. She had an army. Elessar pressed himself into the shadows as a contingent of Eastern Shore elves marched by. Yes, he would go to the Citadel and beg King Fulk to use the Bifrost.

Jumping from tree branch to tree branch and keeping to the shadows, Elessar made his way out of the city. He tried not to look down at the carnage before him. He did not want to see the buildings set on fire, the blood or bodies in the street. Try as he might he did not want to hear the screams and cries for mercy. The closest dark road was to the north and though he would have to loop around the city, it was better than traveling through and risk being stopped by Melisende's men.

Landing softly on the ground, Elessar looked around cautiously to try to discern if anyone was nearby. After he decided himself safe enough, he set forth on the trail at a relatively fast pace for forest runs. Once he put enough distances between himself and the palace, he would slow down, but Princess Yevanna would be done no good if he was killed before the message could be sent.

As he moved away from the red ugly light of the capital, the darkness crept into his thoughts and surrounds. _Have care, Elessar, for the night is dark and full of terrors_. But all the terrors were back in the city, all the monsters were busy with their slaughter.

* * *

Sigyn wiped the tears from her face as she retreated back into the shadows and servant's hallways. Loki was perhaps beyond reason. He would not listen to her—it seemed no one would listen to her. Baldur had said Loki would be dead by tomorrow; she could only assume that meant the frost giants would attack within the next twenty-four hours. She did not want to considered the alternatives.

Panic seized her chest and she had to stop in the narrow stone corridor to regain her breath. The Jotuns would attack today. The Allfather was in the Odinsleep. The only person she could think to warn had not been interested in hearing her pleas. By the Norns, they were all going to died.

Sigyn closed her eyes and focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The knot of fear and panic in her chest loosened slightly. It would be okay. She would figure something out.

The image of Princess Yevanna's face burning with cold fury flashed through her mind and the panic returned. She had heard from the other handmaidens and the elvish generals they were flirting with that the Princess was hotheaded and prone to fits of rage if provoked, but the silent wrath Sigyn had witnessed was much more terrifying. If the other woman had turned her attentions to Sigyn…she didn't want to think about what might have happened to her.

_Asgard can burn for all I care_

Sigyn shuddered and took a deep breath. She didn't really think Princess Yevanna meant what she said, but it was still a horrible prophesy for what might come.

She could say when her mind had turned from resentment and anger toward the elvish woman to something else—something she could not yet identify. As she thought about Princess Yevanna, Sigyn felt as if she had been slapped. It was painfully clear what she must now do. She started walking down the passage towards the stables. Maybe Loki was not the one to stop the invasion from happening. Maybe Princess Yevanna could do it. It would be terrifying to speak to her—especially after all that had happened—but maybe if she explained herself, the elvish princess would understand.

As she hurried to catch the elves before the departed, Sigyn thought about how in Valhalla had her life come to this? She had never wanted to get wrapped up in Beowulf's treason. All she wanted was to stay loyal to Loki. To show him that she could be supportive and helpful and just worth his notice. How had it gone so wrong? She would have never thought Baldur would wish his death or the deaths of thousands.

The only way to save Loki and the rest of Asgard was to convince Princess Yevanna to stay and listen to her. She could warn Thor and the rest of Asgard with him. _She _could do something and in her own way Sigyn would be doing something too—the right thing, the loyal thing. Pushing open the side door into the stables, Sigyn stepped out into the darkening twilight.

* * *

Loki stood just outside stood Odin's chambers, wishing to be away from the sea of troubles that the palace had turned into. The Allfather was in the Odinsleep, Thor was king-regent, and he was…well, he was trying not to think on the most immediate events. Try as he might, he could not get Yevanna's tear stained face out of his mind. By now, all the palace knew of her departure—though in truth she had probably not departed yet. But her army was making ready to move out and she had her generals were in all likelihood riding towards the Bifrost at that very moment to return to Alfheimr.

Tearing his mind away from her, Loki thought of the events of the past hour. Thor had been invested with the crown by Frigga. She had placed it on his brow as he knelt before her and he had arisen king, though in truth Loki wondered if Thor did not look rather frightened of this great responsibility. His first act as king was of course, to interrogate Loki over Yevanna's departure. Loki had refused to say anything—it was none of Thor's business and besides, if his volatile brother knew he was a Jotun, he was sure not even their mother's cries would save him from death.

No, instead he had waited for Thor to dismiss him in anger after not getting what he wanted and made his way to the Allfather's bedroom. He wished to know how much Frigga had been lying to him all these years.

_Upon entering he motioned the guards to leave, though they looked to Frigga for confirmation first. She nodded and waved her hand to indicate her annoyance at being asked. Loki took a seat across from her, the Allfather lying between them._

"_Princess Yevanna has left?" Frigga's confusion was evident._

_Loki kept his face blank and wished everyone would stop prying into his business. What did she care if Yevanna had gone? Surely his mother should know it was unwise for anyone to be close to him. She after all, did know his true nature._

"_Yes."_

"_But why?"_

_Loki shrugged, "I don't pretend to know Yevanna's mind."_

_Frigga stared at him hard, not believing his weak lies. "Is she upset with you over something?"_

"_Yes that must be it, mother. Or perhaps she does not wish a frost giant for a husband. Norns know what kind of monsters she would birth," he snapped._

_His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation. Frigga looked as if he had slapped her and for a moment he regretted his words; or at least, the pain they caused her. Of all the false asgardians, she had always been kind to him; she did not deserve his scorn. Or at least, not yet, though he did not know how deep her treachery went._

"_How did you…no, I mean, you told her and she left you?" She asked with confusion._

_Loki shook his head, "I did not tell her. I simply persuaded her leaving was in her best interest."_

"_You manipulated her into it." It wasn't an accusation, just statement of fact. "Loki, why? She loves you and you her."_

_He looked away from his mother, unable to stand her earnest gaze. "Yevanna doesn't deserve a monster for all eternity."_

"_Oh Loki," Frigga whispered, reaching her hand out to him as if to touch his face. "You're not a monster. You're my son and I couldn't love you more if I had borne you myself."_

"_Why did you not tell me then?" He asked, meeting her gaze again and hope that his eyes did not betray the emotion her words roused in him._

"_I wanted to tell you from the beginning—there should be no secrets in a family. But your father wanted to protect you. He didn't want you to ever feel different." She smiled softly at him and squeezed Odin's limp hand._

"_Well, he did not succeed in his endeavors," Loki stood and pulled his tunic down to give him something to do with his hands. "If you will excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere."_

_He walked around Odin's great bed and passed Frigga who reached up to squeeze his hand has he stalked by. Against his better inclinations, Loki paused and kissed his mother's cheek. He found himself surprised when she did not recoil from his touch._

Loki had not been lying to Frigga, he did have work to see to. If it ever came to light during this war that he was a frost giant, he wanted to have proof beyond doubt that he was not helping them. So to the Archivist it was to see which lordly families had northern estates near where they found the portal to Jotunheim.

Upon entering the royal archives, Loki sought out the Chief Archivist and tried to keep the voice at the back of his head from whispering that he could still go find Yeva and beg for forgiveness. He could at least show her why he did what he did. Loki rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to silence the voice.

"Ah Prince Loki, what can I help you with today?" the white haired man asked.

Loki put on a charming smile, "I was hoping if you could tell me what lords have estates in the north, near Osholm?"

The Chief Archivist smiled, "Ah yes, let me think. Well as far as I know most of the north belongs to Lord Baldur, but Lord Tyr has some lands up there, I believe."

Upon receiving his answer, Loki turned on his heel and left, his mind awhirl. Baldur? Really? But that couldn't be right; Baldur had been with them when they were attacked and it wasn't as if he were privy to the council meetings. Loki frowned and stood. I seemed he needed to pay his cousin a visit.

* * *

Elessar felt as if it were his lungs that were on fire and not the forest he had left behind only a few days ago. His chest ached and burned with every inhale of breath. His feet throbbed from the dress boots he was wearing—there had been no opportunity for grabbing a sturdier pair in the chaos. He was not used to feeling fatigued, but on a normal run he would pace himself, stop for food and drink, stop for rest. There had been no time for that; Elessar knew he needed to reach the Citadel as soon as possible. Who knew what lies Beowulf would spin to the rest of Alfheimr?

Cresting the hill, he breathed a sigh of relief to see the tall imposing tower of the Central Plains' Citadel on the horizon. He was almost there.

As Elessar approached the gates of the city, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. The guards were looking at him as they expected trouble. And though he felt annoyance that the immediacy of his situation was not apparent, he realized he probably looked like a street urchin. He was dirty from crawling through the burning city and forest, his clothes were torn and bloodied.

The guards crossed their spears in front of him, "What's your business in the city, traveler?"

Elessar licked his crack lips and tried to catch his breath, "I have urgent news for King Fulk's ears only. From the Western Woods."

The guards exchanged glances.

"You don't look like a runner from King Theoderic," the one on the right said with skepticism in his voice.

"I am…was King Theoderic's fastest runner!" He protested.

"Was? What do you mean, was? Did you get kicked out or something?" Lefty said.

"No, that's not it at all, please let me pass."

"I don't think so. You look like trouble," Righty sneered.

"Yeah, sod off!"

Elessar snarled at him. "I have run five days straight while the Western Woods burns! Now let me pass before the same comes to happen here."

* * *

"Good evening, cousin," Loki greeted as he entered Baldur's chambers.

Though Baldur was a member of the royal family, his rooms were not near the royal apartments but rather in his own spire of the palace's many towers.

"Good evening, Loki. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Loki was surprised at the genuine tone to Baldur's voice. It was no secret that he often preferred the company of Thor and the Warriors Three to his own. That didn't surprise Loki, particularly, most people preferred Thor's company; besides, if the rumors that Baldur was Odin's bastard son were true, it would make sense that he would seek out Thor. Loki wryly wondered what Baldur would make out of his own parental status then, if he really was Odin's unrecognized son. Would he be furious that jotun scum without a drop of Odin's blood had more social standing than him? If he truly was helping the frost giants, perhaps that was his motivation, though how could he have known Loki was a jotun?

Loki shook his head to clear his thoughts. Thinking in circles would get him nowhere. It was better to simply see how things played out.

Loki sat on the couch in Baldur's front room and waited for his host to seat himself as well.

"I trust you have heard the news?" He asked.

Baldur looked puzzled and frowned. "I have not heard anything out of the ordinary."

Loki could sense an untruth in those words but he was too distracted to pinpoint it exactly. "Father has fallen into the Odinsleep. Thor is now king."

Baldur nodded, "I had not heard, but that explains the general frenzy of the palace today. Do the common rabble know?"

"I'm not sure. I had not given it thought. Either way, I'm sure Thor will wish you at his side for military advice. The Allfather seemed to think the Jotuns would invade soon," he lied, hoping to catch some clue of emotion in Baldur's reply to indicate his guilt or innocence.

"Did he? On whose information did he think that?" To an untrained ear Bladur's reply would have sounded normal, but Loki detected a hint of panic. Though to be fair, most people would panic at being told frost giants were going to invade their homes soon.

Loki shrugged. "The Allfather doesn't always see fit to disclose his sources to me. Regardless, Thor rules now. He wishes me to examine a few promising avenues of information."

Baldur nodded and stood. "I see. May I offer you some tea, cousin?"

Loki nodded more intent on reading Baldur's body language than listening to his actual words. Baldur disappeared into an alcove and busied himself with preparing tea, though Loki thought it was strange that he simply didn't call a servant to do so.

"What sort of information is Thor looking for?" Baldur called over his shoulder.

"Lords who have estates in the north," he answered truthfully, hoping to see a reaction. "You have lands in the north, do you not?"

Baldur reappeared and, after setting the tray down, handed Loki a cup. "I do, though I managed them primarily from the capital."

His words were not exactly true, but they weren't false either. Loki frowned and watched the other man to see if he would also drink the tea. He didn't think Baldur would be stupid enough to try to poison him, but he wasn't taking any chances. Baldur took a sip of his tea and smiled encouragingly. Perhaps Loki had been wrong to suspect him. Honestly, he felt as if his mind had been turned upside down lately—he could not properly concentrate on anything.

"When was the last time you visited them?" He asked, taking a sip of tea. It tasted like cinnamon.

"Am I under investigation, cousin?" Beowulf asked calmly.

Loki cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Not seriously. Thor just asked that I examine every avenue of possibility. Think of this as a formality."

"I see. Well, I suppose the last time was when we all went north to investigate the stone pillars though as you know I didn't stop at my estates. Otherwise, perhaps a few months ago, when Thor and yourself were in Alfheimr. There was a situation with one of my stewards that had to be taken care of personally."

Loki nodded, but paused. Was there a lie in those words? He couldn't tell; he felt as if there was a strong buzzing noise and he couldn't concentrate on the words. He cleared his throat and took another sip of tea to try and calm his mind.

Baldur seemed genuinely concerned over the matter. A wave of self-doubt hit him hard. Clearly his instincts had been off. Perhaps it was better to cut his losses and investigate Tyr after he had some sleep. Loki could not quite remember the last time he had slept.

"I see. I should be going. If you'll excuse me."

As he got to his feet, Loki wavered a little and gripped the chair for support.

"Feeling well, cousin?" Baldur asked, his voice sounding far away and mocking.

Loki glared and was pleased to see a flash of fear cross Baldur's golden eyes. Even incapacitated, he was frightening.

"What did you put in my drink?" He rasped, feeling his legs growing weaker by the second as the buzzing in his mind grew louder.

"Just some fire salts for flavor," Baldur replied innocently as Loki sank to his knees. "But that shouldn't bother you. It only affects jotuns, after all."

_How in the name of Hel did he know?_ Loki thought as the room started to spin and his vision went black. The last thing he felt was the hard ground hitting his face and Baldur's sharp laughter laced with malice in his ear.

* * *

Fulk listened incredulously to the runner's tale, transfixed with horror at Melisende's treachery. Try as he might, he did not want to believe the words Elessar told him. To think that Theoderic had been murdered in cold blood in his own hall was unthinkable, abominable. To break the sacred bond between host and hosted was abhorrent.

Fulk looked down at the seated messenger who was scarfing down his fourth bowl of soup. Fulk didn't blame him, if Elessar's memory served him, he been nearly a week without food or water or rest. Fulk had barely believed the guards who alerted him to the messenger's presence. He still barely believed it. Everything about this meeting felt surreal, dream-like.

"And you're positive that it was Lord Beowulf and Princess Melisende who are responsible for this carnage?"

Elessar nodded, "yes my lord. I saw her kill King Theoderic with my own eyes. Surely she must have been working with Beowulf—there were reports from the guards that she visited him often. King Theoderic thought that it was to gloat over the prisoner's impending death. And perhaps it started that way indeed."

"And the Woods were burning when you left?"

"Yes my lord."

Fulk nodded and turned and turned to his assembled generals and councilors. "We must send word to Princess Yevanna through the Bifrost—she should know of her father's death and that her people need her in Alfheimr once more. Beowulf and Melisende are fools if they think there will be no consequences to their action. Send a missive to Driste of the mountain realm—we shall ride to war against these usurpers and hope to have him at our sides."

* * *

Loki groaned in pain as he slowly regained consciousness. Judging by the chill of the air and the cold stone beneath his body, they were no longer in Baldur's chambers. His arms were bound behind his back with some rough rope—they were already tingling from loss of blood flow. His mind was racing a thousand steps per second. So, Baldur knew about Loki's unfortunately ancestry. But how? Even his own wife didn't know. _No, you can't think of her that way. She's not your wife; she never was._

He cracked open an eye and tried to survey his surroundings. Dark, dingy, small. Perhaps some abandoned servant's chamber. He closed his eyes again and let his other senses take over. He could hear Baldur breathing and the beat of his heart, but Loki detected no one else in the small room or nearby for that matter. He could not hear the echo of the guards marching or the laugh of courtiers. No, they were far away from the busy parts of the palace. He could smell Baldur's excitement and trepidation. Further the acrid smell of poorly performed magic was on the air. That was odd…as far as he knew, Baldur didn't have a magical bone in his body.

Loki reached out with his magic but quickly recoiled in pain as flames erupted both around him and in his mind. Well, that explained the magic smell he had sensed.

"Ah, my dear Prince Loki, you are awake! And here I was worried that my fire salts had killed you."

"Unfortunately not," he grunted as he tried to sit up.

The room came into clearer focus as the flames died down; Baldur was standing with his back to Loki, hands clasped behind him. The space was small with many books and papers spread around—some fixed to the wall, others strewn across the tables and desks. He could see a map with small markers stuck into it and if he had to make a guess, he'd say they indicated the location of the stone portals to Jotunheim. There was a map of the Asgard-City plastered against the wall; the squinted at it, trying to see at what locations more portals might be hiding.

"So I was correct in thinking an Asgardian was aiding the Frost Giants," Loki said, more to buy time than because he actually wanted to boast.

"Well, you always were clever, weren't you? It is a tragedy that once my plan is set into motion everyone will believe you to the one behind the frost giant invasion." Baldur snapped as he turned to face Loki.

That gave Loki a pause at that, dread shooting through his veins. Though really, it should have been obvious from the moment he realized Baldur knew of his heritage that his cousin would try to frame him. And to give him credit it did make sense. Why wouldn't the frost giant bastard, furious with the Allfather, invite carnage into the realm? But how would he do it?

"The necklace was your payment, wasn't it? So that Asgard would love you even though you invited death and destruction into their borders?" Loki said, trying to stall for time.

Baldur threw his head back and laughed, "Aren't you supposed to be intelligent? I just told you I was going to frame you. Heaven's no. The necklace was my goodwill gift to Laufey. How his he supposed to rule the Nine Realms without the unconditional love of all its inhabitants?"

Baldur rolled his eyes and turned back to whatever it was he was doing at the table before him. Standing, Loki tested the magical limitations around him, looking for a weakness. Baldur was new to magic; he was bound to have erred somewhere. If Loki could find it, he could exploit it. Keeping his eyes on the other man's back, he poked at the magical writing with his mind. It hurt, but he could stand it. By now he was used to pain. He needed to make his move soon, if not, who knew what damage Baldur could think up.

* * *

Yeva took a deep breath and faced her generals. They were out in the army yard; she had just given the orders to pack up camp and move out, now her men were demanding an explanation. While it irked her that they were questioning her orders, she understood the confusion over her sudden change of plans.

"It has come to my attention that we are no longer needed or appreciated here. Now if there are no more questions," she stared at the men before her with a hard, daring look. "Good. Then we shall depart to Alfheimr via the Bifrost."

With that she turned and mounted her horse. As they rode through the streets of Asgard, Yeva tried to ignore the glowering looks they received from the inhabitants of the city. While she doubted news of her broken engagement had been made public in the few hours it took her to ready her troops, it didn't take much guessing to figure out that she was leaving. Abandoning the aesir to their fate.

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to block of the sight of her Loki entangled with another woman from her mind. Pain sliced through her chest and she struggled to breath. Loki had awoken so much inside of her that it was excruciating to think of him. He had shown her what love could be like-physical and emotional. To have that torn away in a matter of seconds left a massive hole in her chest. Still, she was not wanted here, so she would go. Yeva blinked back tears and focused on the shimmering rainbow of the road beneath her horse's hooves. Her army would follow their generals through the Bifrost and then it was a week's march home. All she wanted to do was fling herself into her father's arms and never look at another man again.

As the Bifrost's observatory loomed before them and they passed through the high golden gates of Asgard, a lone figure appeared on the bridge before her host, arms waving wildly to stop their gallop. Yeva pulled her horse up short and the creature reared up a few feet away from the girl.

"Lady Sigyn? To what do I owe this imposition?" Yeva snapped, half wishing she could let her horse trample the woman.

It hurt to lay eyes on her, though Yeva was loath to show it.

"Loki is a Jotun."

* * *

"So did Sigyn find you? I told her if she wanted to spread her legs for you again, she'd better do it quickly. We'll all be dead after Laufey comes," Baldur chuckled wryly.

He was working with his back to Loki, apparently mixing something together. It was hard to tell, though in truth, Loki wasn't particularly focused on the other man—just enough to make sure he didn't turn around suddenly. The slither of magic washed over Loki, alerting him to his success at dismantling Baldur's entrapment spell. He needed to work fast; keeping his gaze trained on Baldur's back Loki severed the ropes around his wrists and made himself invisible. A moment later a double blinked into life.

Baldur turned and smiled at the double, "I bet you wish to know when Laufey will be coming? When I'm going to rain death and destruction down on all of you? Or maybe you want to know why."

Loki's double glowered at the other man, waiting for him to finish his gloating speech while Loki himself quietly crept around the small chamber, towards the city map.

Baldur advanced on the silent Loki laughing to himself. "Well, I won't tell you when, but I will tell you why: because I could."

When the double didn't react, except to look bored at such a weak motivation, Baldur angered.

"Well at least I'm not the unwanted son of a monster! Oh yeah, I know all about you, Iceman."

Baldur's eyes filled with confusion as the Loki before him smirked and shimmered out of sight.

"You're not half as clever as you think, cousin," Loki sneered as he drove his long curved dagger through Baldur's back.

The other man gasped, as if the air had been knocked out of him. Loki released him and let the body drop to the floor. he studied the dying man with an air of detachment before turning to leave.

Baldur's wet, choking laughter filled the room.

"And the death…the death of Baldur…" _wheeze, cough "_…at the hand of…Loki…" _cough, cough, wheeze_ "shall be the…first sign of…" _gag, wheeze, gasp _"ragnarok."

Somewhere in the distance the blast of a horn reverberated through all of the Nine Realms.

* * *

"Loki is a frost giant," Sigyn repeated, barely loud enough to Yeva to hear, let alone her generals behind her. "Please. You have to listen to me."

Yeva paused for a moment, considering the other woman's words. Sigyn had always been kind to her, at least on the surface and Yeva had been truly shocked to see her with Loki. Though it might only drive the knife deeper into her heart, she knew she ought to listen to the woman before her. Her words certainly piqued her interested.

She turned the men behind her, "go on to the observatory and inform Heimdall of our departure. Wait for me—this shouldn't take more than a moment."

After the other elves rode past, Yeva looked down at Sigyn from her horse; she would nto give the satisfaction of speaking face to face, "you were saying?"

Sigyn frowned, at a loss as to where she should start, "I know I should apologize for…before. It wasn't my intent to get between you and Loki, at least, not anymore."

She had the decency to look abashed at that, anyway.

Yeva waved her hand, "I am not interested in speaking about that. You said Prince Loki is a frost giant? What is your proof?"

Sigyn seemed taken aback at Yeva's abrupt manner, but continued. "Baldur saw Loki turn blue when a Jotun touched him. When you were in the North. He said his arm turned cerulean blue and all his armor shattered off. But that's not what's important…I was just hoping to get your attention."

"What in Hel's name does Baldur have to do with any of this?" Yeva snapped, annoyed with the girl's ramblings.

Sigyn's eyes widened at the sound of his named and Yeva thought she saw panic flit through her.

"Everything. He's the one behind the Frost Giant invasion. I don't know why, but he is. He wanted me to help and like a fool I agreed, but I swear, I didn't know how far he would take it. You need to tell Thor that the Frost Giants are coming! Soon, today even! And he's going to frame Loki for it."

Before Yevanna could comprehend Sigyn's words fully, the loud blast of a horn washed over them. Her head snapped towards the Observatory. Though she couldn't see what was going at the other end of the bridge in the rapidly falling night, she could feel the frigid cold radiating towards them.

"They're here," Sigyn whispered.

* * *

**So again, I'm really sorry this took so long to get up. I just kind of lost my motivation to do anything besides lay in bed for a few weeks. But I'm back now. :D Also, I'll be working from 1am-7am for the next two weeks, so I'll have nothing to do but write (and study for the GRE, but that's another story). **

**Cultural Notes: "The night is dark and full of terrors" is a popular phrase from HBO's _A Game of Thrones_ based on George R. R. Martin's _A Song of Ice and Fire_. It also used in the books. _  
_**

**The name "Elessar" is from _Lord of the Rings_. It is one of Aragorn's many names / titles.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed the previous chapter (I know I haven't replied to you personally yet), but you all are awesome. Thank you "Guest", ShiroKoneko82, HarryPotterFreakie, ikatiecullen101, Shard-01, and Loki'sdreamer. A further thanks to everyone who added me or this story to your favorites or alerts.**

**Comments, Question, Criticisms? Please Review or PM**


	23. Chapter 23: I'll Be Waiting

**Trigger Warnings for war scenes (violence, blood, death, etc)**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: I'll Be Waiting**

Yeva tore her gaze from the Observatory to look at Sigyn, who had gone deathly pale.

"What do you mean, 'they're here!'" Yeva questioned, not able to keep the panic from her voice.

She knew perfectly well who Sigyn meant.

The invasion has started.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this; she was supposed to go home. Not be caught up in the middle of realm politics.

The terrified scream of horses rolled through the air, followed by elvish curses and the thunder of hooves. Her generals were falling back to her, probably with the whole Jotun army at their heels. Yeva held her arm out to Sigyn, who regarded her with disbelief.

Yeva shook her arm in the other woman's face as desperation edged her voice, "get on the horse unless you want to be trampled!"

Her urgency must have convinced Sigyn. She grabbed Yeva's hand and swung up behind her. A moment later her generals were at her side, Heimdall among their numbers.

"We must close the gate to the city," the solemn aesir called.

She nodded and they rode fast, back the way they came to the great golden gate that separated the Bifrost from the city. Yeva could feel the cold advancing on them and her left cheek throbbed with memory. The blood curdling war cries of the Frost Giants ringing in her ears. The most frightening thing seemed to be that the sound and cold came not only from behind them, but all around them. Was the enemy already in the city?

The gates loomed before them, golden and closed. Yeva's heart sank—if the gate wasn't opened quickly, they would be pinned against the advancing army.

"Open the gate in the name of the Allfather!" Heimdall shouted at the sentinels behind the wall.

The slow grind of metal on metal met their ears and the golden doors parted inch by inch. By now, Yeva could fully make out the first line of the frost giant host. Her eyes widened as she realized what they were carrying.

"Arrows! Take cover!" She yelled as the first bolt came whizzing past their heads to ricochet off the gate.

Her men raised their shields as they anxiously watched the doors behind them slowly creak open. An arrow thudded into a shield to her right and Yeva's horse tossed its head nervously and whinnied in fear. She cursed her lack of a shield. Finally the gates opened enough for a horse and rider to squeeze by. She made the motion for her men to precede her and while they hesitated to place her in harm, they quickly galloped through. Another arrow flew pasted her face. Heimdall went next. The gates were already starting to close again as Yeva and Sigyn rode through. She heard the hail of metal arrowheads hitting gold as they disappeared through the narrow passage.

Something hard smacked into her back as Sigyn let out an anguished cry. Her horse spooked at the sudden scream and reared up. Yeva felt Sigyn's grip around her waist loosen as she fought to get her mount under control and hold on to the woman behind her. Theo ran forward to grab her reins as Yeva jumped out of the saddle to help Sigyn to the ground.

She was white as a ghost and moaning in pain. A crude barbed arrow was sticking out of her shoulder. Sigyn slumped forward into Yeva, who tried to hold her up without jarring the arrow shaft. Time slowed as Yeva felt Sigyn's face pressed into her neck. She could feel hot tears falling onto her shoulder. The arrow tip was pressing into the front of her armor though Sigyn's body. Amid the din of the night, she could hear Sigyn whispering something over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Yeva stroked Sigyn's silken hair, "Shhh. It will be okay. It's not your fault. Men and gods are cruel. It's going to be okay."

Though Sigyn had made dangerous choices with disastrous consequences, Yeva couldn't find it in herself to cast off the dying woman. To leave this world with a regret-filled heart was a horrifying fate. She tried to comfort the other woman as much as she could. As much as Sigyn would allow herself to be comforted.

"Yeva, we must go," Theo yelled.

Heimdall appeared before her and lifted Sigyn's weakening body out of Yeva's arms. Sigyn groaned in pain as beads of sweat broke upon her brow.

"Go. Aid Asgard and King Thor. I will guard the gate. Lady Sigyn will be safe enough in the watch tower," Heimdall spoke calmly, though they could all hear the Frost Giants battering the gate from the other side.

Yeva nodded and turned to her generals, "We should rendez-vous with the rest of our army. The fastest way is through the city."

Mounting her horse she prepared to the give the signal to move out.

"Hold a moment, Princess." Heimdall called, returning from the watchtower where he has placed Sigyn to rest.

Yeva turned to him only to see him offering up to her a silver bound horn. Gjallarhorn: the horn that wakes the sleepers. Heimdall had already blown it once to alert the Realms of attack: a sign of the Ragnarok. Hesitantly, she took it.

"Tell the people of Asgard to make ready for war," he instructed.

She nodded him a silent thanks and urged her horse into a gallop. Her men fell in behind her. As they thundered through the sleeping city, she raised Gjallarhorn to her lips.

* * *

Loki appeared in the main hallway near his chambers, Baldur's map of Asgard-City clutched in his fist. There was an unnatural chill in the night air that set his nerves on edge. The horn he had heard as Baldur lay dying could only mean one thing: invasion. The Frost Giants must have crossed through the planes of Yggdrasil. The map he had showed various locations throughout the city that Loki assumed were portals. If the jotuns got inside the walls of the city, complete chaos would reign. The Palace itself was not designed to withstand a siege or direct assault. They would need to evacuate into the underground tunnels.

As Loki ran towards the throne room to find Thor, he cursed Baldur for his treachery and hoped that his soul went straight to Hel. Turning down the main corridor to the throne room, Loki paused and looked out over the city to the Bifrost Observatory. He wondered if the elves had left. Closing his eyes, he shook his head to banish the image of Yeva that appeared there. Beautiful, smiling Yeva. What had he done? No, she didn't deserve to be shackled to a monster. Opening his eyes, Loki gasped in horror to see blue beacons of light shooting up into the night sky all over the city. Monster though he was, he would do everything he could to make up for his lack of worth.

Too impatient to wait for the guards to open the massive golden doors, Loki burst into the throne room. Thor was standing in front the golden throne of Asgard talking to a number of generals and allies.

"Brother! Where have you been, I sent a messenger to retrieve you an hour ago," the God of Thunder called across the expansive room.

Loki teleported to his side and unfurled the map with a snap of his wrist.

"Portals to Jotunheim are opening all over the city," he rushed, ignoring Thor's previous question.

"What's this? Where did you get this map?"

"There isn't time to explain. _Frost Giants are inside the city walls." _

Thor nodded, understanding the urgency of the situation. He turned to Freyja and the dark-haired, golden-eye Valkyrie standing just behind her.

"Lady Freyja, can your Valkyries fly over the city and report on the situation?"

She inclined her head, "of course, my king."

Loki watched as the Valkyrie unfurled her wings and flew off the balcony towards the Winged Tower, where the others of her rank lived. Thor took the map from Loki and studied it. The generals leaned in for a closer look.

"There's a portal in every neighborhood," one of them commented.

"Do you think they'll converge? It will weaken them if they are kept apart," Loki commented.

Thor nodded. "We should try to stop the different groups from coming together."

He looked up at their assembled allies, who were all waiting for him to give the orders. Some looked apprehensive, others were resolved. Loki couldn't help but notice that Thor himself looked apprehensive; so, for all his bravo, once power was actually his the God of Thunder didn't know what to do with it.

"Take you troops to different sectors of the city—try to stop them from converging in one location. My brother and I will take the bulk of the Asgardian army and head towards the practice fields—if there's one place in Asgard-City big enough for the armies to assemble, it's there."

Thor quickly assigned different contingents to various sectors of the city. Soon they left the throne room to meet with their staff and disseminated the orders. Thor and Loki were left alone. The gears of war were turning; Loki only hoped they were turning fast enough.

Thor smiled at him, "I'm glad you are here, brother. But come, we should done our armor and find the Warriors Three and Lady Sif."

Loki nodded, not sure how to take Thor's sudden show of affection. The part of him that still simmered in rage wanted to scream that they weren't brothers and if he got the chance he would tear Thor's father apart for all the lies Loki had been told. But the rational side of him knew the middle of an impending battle was not the place for his anger.

"As you say, Thor."

* * *

Yeva and her company clattered through the streets of Asgard-City. The atmosphere was suffocating as if the aesir knew death himself rode through the darkness. The windows and doors of buildings were all shut up, no one was visible. Loki had once explained to her that there were underground tunnels and caves below every neighborhood in the city that the people fled to in times of trouble. Granted, they hadn't been used in millennia, but everyone in the Nine Realms knew what two blasts of Gjallarhorn meant.

They had decided to cut through the central market as it was the closes route to the barracks and practice fields. As the horses rounded the corner, pain spiked though her left cheek again. At the very center of the market square the ornate golden water fountain was glowing cerulean blue.

"Jotuns! Ready your weapons!" She yelled while pulling Eld out of its scabbard; the white fire illuminated the empty space, throwing it in sharp contrast.

She was at least pleased that she had made everyone apply the skin salve.

The sound of bows being readied and swords drawn bounced off the high gold walls as the first Frost Giant stepped through the portal. An arrow flew pasted Yeva's head, hitting the creature in the throat. It staggered and fell backwards onto the next soldier.

"Can you destroy it?" Theo called. "We need to keep moving!"

Yeva frowned, thinking. Loki had destroyed one, but she wasn't sure how much magic he used. Besides, that had been a simple pile of stones; this was a golden statue of Odin that stood ten feet tall. Fire might work, but the only fire available was her sword. She looked down at the blade in her hand then back to the portal, an idea creeping into her head.

"Cover me!" she yelled, digging her heels into the horse's side.

Another giant entered the realm only to be shot down as she approached. Yeva hoped to the Allfather that her plan would work. Riding up to the fountain, she thrust her sword forward, plunging the blade into the swirling black and blue void leading to Jotunheim. For a moment nothing happened. Then the portal started to shake. Yeva retracted Eld and nudged her horse back a few feet.

Suddenly Odin's golden face dented with screeching groan and the entire fountain when up in white flames. The rest of the golden fixture followed as the portal closed in on itself, debris from the surrounding areas flying into it. Yeva's braided hair, the edges of her silk tunic, and the horse's mane whipped forward and she tried to control the frightened animal. The bright blue light emanating from the tear in the fabric of the realm collapsed into itself.

For a moment everything was quiet. She glanced back to Theo and the others, unsure if she had actually closed it. Then a blinding blue light and a thunderous wave of energy shot outwards nearly knocking Yeva off of her horse. She closed her eye to the violent onslaught of energy and wished she could shut her ears as well.

When it was over, the silence rung out louder than the explosion. Yeva rode over to the group of men behind her.

"At least we know how to shut the portals down if we encounter more," she said.

"We should try to find the rest of the army."

She nodded but before she could give the signal to move out, their heads snapped up to the sky where the beat of wings could be heard. A Valkyrie landed gracefully near their party.

"I thought all the elves had left." She called out as she folded her gold tipped wings.

Yeva shook her head, "we came back. Frost Giants entered through the Bifrost. Heimdall is holding the gate."

"King Thor will be glad to hear of your return, less so about the Bifrost. He and Prince Loki are heading for the practice fields—he believes that bulk of the Jotun army will converge there. The rest of the allies are combing the city to stop the influx of Jotun contingents."

"If you see another company, tell them fire will destroy the portals. Have you seen the elvish army? We are only officers."

"They are still near the barracks," she said before unfurling her wings and rising above them. "I will tell King Thor that you are coming, if I have the chance."

Yeva turned to her men as the Valkyrie flew away, "Right, to the barracks then."

She only hoped they could reach Thor and the aesir army in time to report Sigyn's words of Baldur's treachery. If not, then she hoped to Valhalla they would at least be able to fight against the Jotuns.

* * *

Loki sat astride his black stallion, next to Thor as they surveyed the fields before them. The moon was fat and red on the horizon as dawn started to break in the east. He didn't feel the chill in the air, but his breath steamed before him. Across the immeasurable emptiness of the army practice field on the outskirts of the city, thousands of red eyes glowered back at them. Though he did not turn around, the city behind him was smoking and torn apart. The shouts and clash of the skirmishes through the streets was audible over the silence of the encamped armies.

"Why do they not attack?" Frandral asked, his light tone belying his nerves.

"They're waiting," Hogun answered somewhat unhelpfully.

"For dawn, obviously," Loki finished.

"How many are there?" Frandral continued.

Loki looked at the frost blue host before them. It seemed endless, though perhaps that had more to do with their natural camouflage in the inky darkness. _Yeva would be able to see better than any of us_, he thought before pushing thoughts of the elvish princess out of his head. She had gone; it would do no good to linger on her, especially not with an approaching battle.

From behind them, another explosion rocked the city.

"What in Valhalla is going on back there?" Thor roared, angry at his inability for action.

Loki shook it his, "Impossible to tell and you can't risk splitting the army further to find out."

As the light rose, Loki's confidence sunk. Not only were their frost giants before them, but dark elves, ice creatures, dwarves, and the denizens of Hel. He had never seen a host so great—they were outnumbered at least ten to one. Heart plummeting, realization dawned on him.

"Blood and Damnation! Thor we should have never let the other generals go into the city. It was a distraction," he hissed, trying not to alarm the others.

Before he could respond a single runner from the enemy side strode out into the field, white flag in his hands. Spearing it into the ground, he cupped his blue hands around his mouth and shouted.

"King Laufey and Lady Hel wish to speak terms!"

Loki glanced and Thor who nodded. They rode forward as the runner retreated. Stopping in next to the white flag, they waited for the two figures from the other side to approach. Loki couldn't help the swell of apprehension and panic that engulfed him for a moment as Laufey drew nearer. _My birth father_. Did he know? Would he recognize him? No that was ridiculous—Laufey had called him 'Odinson' when they were in Jotunheim. Quickly, he quashed those feelings and focused on the other figure advancing on them.

Hel was both lovely and terrifying to behold. Her full red lips and soft, radiant skin gave one the impression of beauty, comfort, and fulfillment but the gaping eye socket and decaying flesh on the other side of her skull was the stuff of nightmares.

"I see the Allfather is in the Odinsleep," Laufey hissed once they were within speaking distance.

"Or perhaps he does not consider you a threat worthy of his time," Thor mocked.

Hel laughed; it was a high sound somewhere between the tinkling of bells and nails on a chalkboard, "Such bravo you have, Odinson. I wonder, will you will be bold when I have you screaming for mercy before my throne?"

"Speak your terms and be done with this banter," Thor snapped.

Loki for his part, tried not to look at Laufey; to do so would be a confirmation of his own monstrosity. He could feel the cold radiating off of the giant king without looking at him. The aura of menace was palpable.

"Our terms are simple, Odinsons, we require your complete and total surrender in exchange for your lives. Everyone else will be put to the sword."

Thor spat on the ground, "Absolutely not. Those terms of humiliation not surrender."

"Have it your way; your army is not nearly strong enough to go against us," Hel sneered before turning her horse and riding away. Laufey stalked after her.

Thor glanced at Loki before turning back towards the front lines, clearly furious at their disrespect. Loki followed; his neck stiff from fighting the urge to glance behind him.

"What terms did they offer?" Sif asked as they approached.

"Total surrender for our lives. Obviously we didn't accept," Loki filled in after it was clear Thor was too angry to speak.

The others nodded and spread the orders for formation. Loki looked to Thor—golden Thor who was always considered the savior of the Nine Realms, the perfect son. He was so stricken with rage and self-doubt at the moment Loki almost felt bad for him. Loki pushed his anger and jealous deep down inside himself. Whatever he was feeling right now over his new found heritage and lies about his life, it was not the time for them. Survival was more important and right now Thor and the army were still on his side. If he wanted to live, he needed to get them through this battle.

"Thor, what is our plan?"

"We wait for their charge and meet them on the field."

"Why not send our vanguard to flank them?" He asked.

"I don't want to split the army," Thor responded.

"But making them fight on multiple fronts would weaken their advantage," Loki pressed.

"I said no; know your place, brother," Thor snapped. "I am the one who has studied war all my life, not you. If I am in need of your tricks, I will let you know."

Loki glowered in his saddled, silently cursing Thor for his hubris. The bloody fool was going to get them all killed.

"You Majesty, the troops are ready and await your signal," Sif said as she returned from marshaling the lines.

A low horn resonated across the field. It reverberated in Loki's bones and made his brain throb. Its echo was silent but tangible. As the silence grew to a painful volume, a single horrific shriek split the air. More voices filled the void between the armies until the choir of the damned was all that seemed to exist in the world. Then, as abruptly as it had started it ended.

Thor raised the Horn of Fingole, given to the Allfather by Yevanna when she arrived as a sign of friendship, and blew it to send the call to all allies for aid.

The host of Laufey and Hel charged.

Loki stared in a moment of abject horror at what he was sure to be his death charging towards him. He readied his spear, a ball of white flames glimmering at the tip. Thor let out a mighty shout and, mjolnir held aloft, charged. A moment later, Loki and the rest of the front line followed, battle cries joining Thor's.

_We are all going to die_, Loki thought at the back of his mind.

But hope and despair are funny things; one can quickly surpass the other with little prompting. Across the crest of the hill behind the Jotun's rear flank, Gjallarhorn answered the call of Fingole's horn. Even at such a distance and at full gallop, Loki's eyes locked on the central figure in the five thousand elvish troops. Her fire red hair and sword of white flame shone like the rising sun in the dawn.

"Yeva"

* * *

Chaos, complete and omnipresent broke out within the Jotun ranks as the elves charged their rear flank and the aesir met them head on. Yeva charged into the back lines hacking and stabling as she went. Eld's fiery arc blazed in the cool light creating a halo of flames around her. The sizzle of fire sent the frost giants and creatures of Hel screaming in fear. From ice they were made and fire was their undoing. The clash of battle was terribly loud, but Yeva never hear it—she didn't hear the screams of the dying, the sound of breaking flesh and bone, she did not smell the acrid stench of fear or the heady smell of bravery. Her instincts and reflexes took over completely; the flash of sword and movement of bodies was all that processed through her mind. She stabbed right, cutting an artery. Another slash to a creature's back and it fell beneath her horse's hooves. A few managed to parry one or two of her strikes with crude weapons or claws, but they too soon joined their comrades in the dirt.

Across the field, lighting struck and fire balls exploded while the ice creatures and Frost Giants summoned snows and sleet. The ground soon turned to a stew of mud, snow, blood, and death.

_Blood on snow_, she thought, _just like my vision in the pool. _

Her trained commander's eye could see the fear in the ranks that her troops were cutting down. The back infantry wanted to flee—flee their commanders, the aesir, and the elves—but there was no escape. Good. Fear was cut deeper than any sword.

Time was meaningless; every moment felt both an eternity and a second. Soon, Yeva was in the thick of the battle, halfway through the field, well within the range of her archers who were flinging burning arrows into the rabble. To her left another fiery explosion rocked the ground. Though at the back of her mind she knew exactly who was creating those explosions, she tried not to think on it. To do so meant distraction and distraction meant death.

Turning her mount, Yeva caught sight of Theo. He was torn from his horse and beset by foes on all sides. Kicking her horse in the side she charged to his defense. As she approached the knot of enemies, a jotun summoned a pike of ice and jabbed it at her horse. Too late to stop or turn her mount, the animal screamed in pain as Yeva was pitched forward.

Landing on her feet, she sliced off the Jotun's head in a swift movement and turned to flank another that Theo was attacking. She had sparred with him so long his movements were a second nature to her own. They moved in harmony as they dispatched foe after foe. A demon of Hel's charged Theo's back. Yeva made a quick motion to him and he crouched down. She rolled over his flattened back and kicked the demon in the face as she landed, knocking it down. Another smooth chop of Eld and its head was cleaved from its body.

"Yeva, we must find you a horse!" Theo shouted over the din of battle.

She shook her head, "I will be fine on foot!"

She pointed towards a thick knot of soldiers—both enemy and ally. Theo nodded and they made their way towards it. As she approached she realized Thor was standing on a large boulder, sending enemies flying with each swing of Mjolnir.

"Princess Yevanna!" He bellowed, "you've returned to us!"

"Yes, I have!" She called back as she slashed a demon's femoral artery—black blood spurting everywhere.

"Raise your sword for a moment, I wish to try something!"

Complying, she raised Eld high. Thor gripped his hammer tight and spun it in a circle while the air crackled around it. A bolt of purple lighting hit the hammer just as he aimed it at Eld. Yeva brought the blade down on an advancing foe. When metal met flesh fire and electricity forked out of its body into the nearby bodies of the surrounding jotuns. They were lifted into the air before crumpling to the earth in smoking heaps. She grinned at Thor before returning to Theo to point out another group of enemies.

They moved onwards, across the field to where most of her army was occupied. It seems the elves had attracted the attentions of Laufey and his elite troops. As they approached, she saw Theo wink at her from the corner of her eye. He dashed forward, the confidence of youth burning his face and sword raised to the Frost Giant King's back. She stared in horror as Laufey whirled around and wrapped his frozen fingers around Theo's throat.

"THEO!" She screamed.

_NO._ She couldn't lose him, he was her most trust friend, her oldest friend. Life without Theo would lose its color and vivacity. Sprinting forward, Yeva barreled into Laufey, knocking all three of them to the ground. She jumped up just as Laufey did, forgetting Theo where he lay. She didn't have time to see if her friend was still alive; instead, the Jotun King attacked as another fiery explosion rocked the area.

He fought with a sword made of ice and his size made him formidable.

"I remember you, elf princess, the fire girl with ice her heart. I did not get the opportunity to thank you for your parting gifts. Allow me to repay them now," he snarled as he launched a series of vicious attacks.

Blocking his advances, Yeva was slowly backed up farther and farther away from her troops. She dodged the ice-blade and swerved to the side, getting under Laufey's guard, a girn splitting her face as she split his side. The frost giant reeled back in pain from the fire. Raising Eld for the killing blow, she did not have time to process what happened next until it was too late. Laufey struck out with rage, backhanding her so hard she was lifted off the ground and went flying into a pile of corpses, her blade flung from her grip. As she landed, white hot pain shot through her side as the spike of a spear skewered her side. She screamed. Her body slid down the weapon and landed awkwardly against the curved ridge of a helmet; she heard the crunch of bone and everything below her waist when numb.

_Oh no. No. _

Yeva could not remember a time when she felt so helpless as Laufey, frozen and terrible, stalked towards her. He was furious at the bluish-purple blood that was flowing out of his side.

_I'm going to die, _she thought as darkness seeped into her mind.

Laufey stood before her for a moment and just looked at the broken girl before him. His red eyes were utterly devoid of emotion. Still, Yeva refused to close her eyes or look away. She would meet her death face to face.

Laufey raised his blade, lips curled in a sneer.

"NO!"

A bright flash of light and Laufey was knocked backwards.

When the energy cleared, Loki stood between her and the enemy, left hand raised to keep a force field up and right hand clutching his golden spear, his knuckles white.

* * *

"Don't you touch her!" Loki snarled as his face contorted in rage and eyes burning bright.

Loki had not realized he had teleported to Yeva's side until the words escaped his mouth. He has seen her body flung through the air like ragdoll out of the corner of his eye and red had covered his vision. Instinct had taken over.

He advanced on the father of monsters and as Laufey struggled to right himself, a look of surprise on his face. Loki gripped his spear and felt fire flow through him. He channeled all his rage, confusion, jealousy, and pain through the golden conduit and let loose.

A fireball exploded out of his spear and found its home in Laufey's heart. At the last moment of his life, Laufey lunged forward, pinning Loki under him to the earth. The death grip cut through his armor and he felt the spell holding his aesir appearance melt away. As the flames consumed Laufey's flesh, Loki wrenched himself out of his father's grasp and rolled away.

His red eyes met Yeva's blue ones as an utterly unreadable look flitted over her face. He ran to her has her eyes closed and her head rolled to the side. Loki looked in horror at the wooden spike jutting through her armor and the sheer amount of blood soaking the ground. Switching into his magic vision, he tried to detect a heartbeat, or other signs of life. He was so preoccupied with the woman before him; he did not see the man just behind him.

He did not see Thor's horror and confusion at his brother's blue swirled skin and bloody eyes. Or the shudder of revulsion as the cold of his body hit Thor's.

* * *

Days later, the battle was over and the war won. Yet Loki felt utterly miserable. Once Laufey had fallen, the combined forces of the aesir and elves chased down the remnants of Hel and Laufey's army, though Hel herself escaped. Yeva, Theo, Sif, and the rest of the wondered had been moved to the healing room or the make-shift field hospitals. Loki had been brought to the throne room for interrogation

"How do you explain a room filled with spell books and maps pinpointing the Jotuns' portals right below your bedrooms?" The legal advisor to the crown asked as Thor looked on.

Frigga had not been allowed at the proceedings.

Loki remained perfectly still, a scowl affixed to his face.

"Lord Baldur's corpse was found there, stabled with your dagger. From searching his rooms it became apparent that he was fearful of you. He thought you were going to kill him, according to his journal."

Loki remained silent. He would not dignify these ridiculous accusations with a reply.

"You must answer!" The herald cried.

Silence fell in the golden chamber as half the court looked on.

"If you will not answer, you shall be taken to dungeons until you choose to cooperate," Thor finally spoke, weariness in his voice.

Loki held out his shackled wrists, indicating the guards should lead him away. There was no reason to fight.

As he was led down the corridor past the healing room, anguished cries of pain reverberated off of the golden walls.

* * *

Yeva slowly opened her eyes and groaned in pain; her side hurt, her back hurt, her head pounded in agony.

_At least I'm alive._

"Yeva, you're awake," someone to her left croaked.

She turned her head to see Theo sitting on the bed next to hers. He managed a weak smile which she returned.

"Did you every doubt me?" She rasped.

"Of course not," his smile faltered. "Look, Yeva, there's something we need to talk about. A messenger came before the battle started…"  
She nodded, but was momentarily distracted by his words as the healer entered the room, "how are you feeling, you royal highness?"

"I ache all over, but otherwise well," she replied.

"Yeva, There was a message from Alfheimr," Theo continued, looking askance at the healer.

She turned to him, ready to listen as the man puttered around her bed, checking her wounds.

"It's Beowulf…well, I mean, you father," he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "There was…there was a coup. Yeva, King Theoderic is dead."

Yeva's eyes widened in shock and the healers words faded to garbled sound.

"What?!" She cried; it was suddenly impossible to breath.

_Dead dead dead dead. _

"NO! You're wrong," she screamed, standing and knocking over the side table as she did so.

Water and healing supplies scattered everywhere. The healer jumped back and shouted into the hall for assistance.

"Yeva you need to calm down," Theo tried to hold her, but she broke away from him and ran to the end of the healing room before an assistant healer blocked her way. She turned around, her eyes wide and wild like a frenzied horse.

"DO NOT TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!" Yeva screamed picking up another jug of water and hurling it across the room, trying to dissuade the stupid people who didn't understand from approaching her.

It was too much, all of it just too much. First Loki had broken her heart with betrayal, then she had nearly died at the hands of Laufey, and now this hideous news that her father was dead. She scratched at the skin of her arms and face unable to bear its tight confines. A high pitched kneeing sound could be heard and it took her a moment to realize it was coming from her own throat.

"You lie! All of you! Leave me! Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

"Get a sedative," someone called behind her.

"What in the name of the Allfather is all this commotion?" another thunderous voice called from the door way.

Something inside of her shattered as she slumped to the cold, golden ground. This was all her fault. If she hadn't gotten caught up in this Asgardian nonsense, she would never have left her father's side. He would still be alive if she had stayed. Maybe if Laufey had killed her on the battlefield, the norns would have been appeased and would have spared her father.

She was sobbing now, huge body wracking sobs that were silent except for the occasional gasp for air. She could hear people speaking at the edge of her consciousness. Yelling, explaining, bargaining, ordering. Then cool, strong arms wrapped around her crumpled body. She pressed her face into the crook of his elbow, refusing to look at anyone. His long fingers stroked her hair and back, calming her down slightly. He leaned over her, enveloping her in his embrace, to murmur in her ear.

"Yeva," Loki whispered. "I know you can hear me. Listen to me. Take this sadness and turn it to rage. Bring judgment to those who wrong you."

"You wronged me," she whispered back.

"I know. But I'm not important. Crush your father's murders then come for me. I'll be waiting."

He had broken her heart, crushed it so that this news was more that she could bear. Yet at that moment there was no one else in all the Nine Realms whom she wished to hold her.

* * *

**Spot the _Game of Thrones _references, eh? :D**

**A special thanks to FurionKnight, Loki'sdreamer, and Lokisarmyforever for your lovely reviews. And of course to everyone who added my story or myself to your favorites / alerts page. **

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